


Shadows of the Past

by MiladyDragon



Series: Dragon-Verse: Future Adventures [14]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Doctor Who (2005), Forever (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Merlin (TV), Torchwood
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dragons, Dark Magic, Horror, Kidnapping, Mentioned polyamory, Minor Character Death, Mpreg, Multi, Non-Linear Narrative, Reincarnation, Torture, Vashta Nerada, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-02
Updated: 2017-06-23
Packaged: 2018-10-26 22:18:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 41
Words: 104,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10795878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiladyDragon/pseuds/MiladyDragon
Summary: Six days ago - Merlin vanished from the Magic School on New Avalon.Four days ago - Phillip received notification of a Director-Level Event.  He didn't come home.Now - Jack and Arthur are on the hunt for answers.  Ianto is faced with an ancient Power and a familiar face.  Something walks in the darkness of an abandoned Library.Every single one of these things is connected





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Here it is! The story that had the working title of "The Monster", all 41 chapters and over 100,000 words of it!
> 
> This takes a little of a time jump from the last story in the Future-Verse. It's also the first time I've ever written anything even vaguely non-linear, so please look at the chapter dating if you get confused. This story is the start of a new arc in the future, so there are more stories coming after this one (the last one I'm currently working on.).
> 
> Now, I haven't mentioned a lot of the characters that appear in this, because I want them to be a surprise when they show up. However, the tags are accurate. So if there's something in them that bothers you, please take the appropriate care, and I'll let you know when those chapters happen. 
> 
> This story also borrows fairly heavily from "Agents of SHIELD" and "Doctor Who", just so you know. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

 

**_Unknown Date and Time_ **

****

Professor River Song made her way through the jungle, using a machete to clear the trail ahead, the sounds of birds and insects and other animals a strange sort of music in her ears.

The very atmosphere was so thick with moisture that it felt as if she was swimming through it.  The small hairs at the back of her neck and around her face were practically stuck to her skin, and her clothes were saturated with sweat.  Her pony tail was so bedraggled her normally curly hair was practically straight.

She was loving every minute of it.

Something stung her on the bare neck, and she reached up and slapped at the bug that had to have been the culprit.  River was most likely covered in bites by now, and no amount of repellent seemed to have any effect on the bloodthirsty buggers.  Well, she certainly hoped they were enjoying the meal she was providing, because 51st century plasma would have been hard to come by, there in this primordial place.

When and where she came from, archaeology had become an almost clean profession.  Sure, there were still digs and expeditions, but they rarely got as down and dirty as she was in that moment.  And, normally, River would have been complaining about it constantly; it wasn’t that she was averse to a little filth, but her particular brand of science usually had more to do with time travel than slogging through jungles, being on the look-out for anything that might bite her.

River glanced up the overgrown trail; in front of her was an impressive mountain, thrusting out of the jungle like some sort of beacon, calling to her.  According to the map she’d ‘borrowed’ from the Library of St John the Beheaded, that mountain was where a mighty king had been entombed, along with all of his treasures…as well as a few dozen of his wives he’d chosen to take along with him into the afterlife.  Which meant it sucked to have been married to that particular king.

It would be a coup if she could get there before anyone else, and she’d managed to pull this expedition together rather quickly.

It helped that she’d had a very generous backer.

River could make out the grumbling of the native bearers she’d hired to carry all the gear she’d needed for this expedition. None of them were best pleased at where they were heading and weren’t afraid to complain about it, although they should have been happy with the amount of credits she was paying them.  Their leader, a tall woman whose name River had somehow forgotten – and River had seriously considered seducing her at several points on their journey, only to hold off because the last thing she needed were complications on this trip – had explained that the majority of the people living in the area considered the mountain sacred, and to set foot on its slopes was inviting disaster.

Well, when _hadn’t_ River invited disaster along for the ride?  She and Disaster were on a first-name basis!

The trees were so thick the sun was barely penetrating the canopy of leaves overhead.  River slashed at the undergrowth with her machete, her arm pleasantly sore from the exercise.  Yes, she could have used the blaster that was in its holster at her hip, but this was far more satisfying. 

She’d first heard about this place from a Patrian trader through a contact she’d had at one of the seedier spaceports in the Damascene Cluster.  Even in the Patrian Wastes they’d heard about the reputation of this planet and its inhabitants, and it had intrigued River enough to go hunting for more information.  The research she’d done had given her some insight into how the natives viewed the mountain, but that hadn’t stopped her from getting the only map she knew existed, hopping a transport, and then heading toward the place as if it was a siren song.  And maybe it was, because it certainly seemed to have called her out of the realms of academia she’d been content to exist in for the last several years. 

Another insect, this one as large as her thumb, practically flew right into her face, and she had to wave it away before it could land.  Its gossamer blue wings flashed as it dodged her hand, darted toward her once more, and then was gone to harass someone else. 

River wondered just what they lived on when they couldn’t get omnisexual archaeologists.

If she had to guess, it would be another day before they reached the foot of the mountain.  Then, it would only be a matter of time before she found the hidden entrance to the tomb.  River could feel the adrenaline high already; the buzz she got from the adventure of finding something ancient and valuable.  She could only imagine what it would be like when she did find the actual tomb.

After that…then she’d decide what she wanted to do with any treasure she happened to find. 

River might have been a trained archaeologist, but there were times when she wasn’t afraid to help herself.   After all, there were scruples…and then there was being able to make a living.  Of course, on this particular job, she did have backing, but there were a couple of rumoured items in that tomb that she had an interest in.

One happening to be a dragon egg.

She’d hunted dragon eggs before, and had a large amount of success at it.  River was determined to make sure that anything like that got to its rightful – so to speak – owner.  Not that anyone would have been able to get into such an egg without magical help, but the idea that a baby dragon was stuck in an egg…well, River didn’t like that idea very much.  And if the egg wasn’t viable any longer, then at least she could make certain they were laid to rest in the proper fashion.

There was some debate on just how a dragon egg had gotten into an alien treasure tomb, but that was neither here nor there.  There was no way, if it existed, that it was going into some rich man’s hands.

The bearers she’d hired were back to grumbling.  It was all River could do not to roll her eyes.  Superstitious idiots, one and all.  It wasn’t that she didn’t believe in curses…after all, she did have a magical son, and he knew all about that sort of thing.  But she also knew ancient civilisations, and was well aware that ninety-nine percent of rumoured curses were just that…rumours, set up to keep grave robbers away from the burials of the wealthy dead.

Alright, there was that whole thing with Tutankhamun, but River knew for a fact that ancient Egyptians were some of the strongest mages ever known. Not as strong as her Merlin, of course…her boy was something special in that regard.

River allowed herself to feel a pang of guilt for not seeing him more than she did, but she also knew that he had his own family now, with his mate and the Harkness-Joneses. Maybe after this she’d take a trip to Hubworld…

Maybe she’d also look up her wayward husband.

Another insect bite broke her from her melancholy thoughts, and she smacked at it hard enough to make the skin of her neck tingle.  Damnit, she was going to need to bathe in anti-itch cream after this was done and she was back home!

They’d need to find a place to set up camp soon.  The party wouldn’t be able to continue on for much longer; it got far darker under the trees the closer to sunset it became.  The thick branches of the trees didn’t help, cutting down the light way sooner than River was prepared to stop.  The bugs would get far more voracious at night as well, and it was bad enough that there wasn’t an inch of skin that didn’t have a raised welt on it. 

Some of the more dangerous animals came out at dusk as well, and the last thing River wanted was to become the snack for one of the more carnivorous of the beasts that hunted at night.  Getting a fire started would be their first priority, in order to keep most of the wildlife away, but River couldn’t wait to get into the climate-controlled tent she’d packed with their gear.  A little air conditioning sounded heavenly at the moment!

River would have given anything to have a real, water shower, but that would have been impossible to bring along.  She’d have to settle for one of the handheld sonic cleaners to get most of the sweat off.

“Start looking for a good place to camp,” she called back over her shoulder as she hacked yet another tangled bunch of shrubs to pieces.  There was an affirmative from behind her.

Ironically, River herself found one about two minutes later.

Cutting through another batch of thick vines, River practically stumbled into the clearing. 

It was a circular space, about ten foot in diameter, the trees opening up overhead enough to let the sun shine down into the area.  The grass was short, and there was an honest-to-goddess pond in nearly the exact centre, with its own tiny shoreline almost choked with various types of reeds and flowers.

River stepped farther into the clearing, stretching her arms over her head in order to ease some of the tiredness in her shoulders.  This was perfect, and they were lucky they’d come across it.  They could get the tents up around the pond, and build a firepit on one end…

She was about to give orders to do all of that when someone else entered the clearing.

It was a young man, with dark hair and blue eyes with circles of gold around the irises.  He was tall and thin, and wiry, with pale skin and ears that were just a little too large for his head.

His clothes, though, weren’t fit for the environment.  He wore a blue shirt and black trousers, with boots that were sturdy but not made for trekking through the jungle.  There was a scarf around his neck, red with gold thread embroidered through the fabric in a pattern River couldn’t make out. 

He didn’t fit in there.

River had her blaster out and aimed in his direction.  “Who the hell are you?” she snapped.  If someone was jumping her claim to the treasure…not that she had much of a claim, but it was the principle of the thing. 

The young man’s eyes widened.  “Mum?” he asked, his voice trembling. 

What?

Wait…no, it couldn’t be.

_“Merlin?”_

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

 

**_1 September 5192 (Earth Standard Date)_ **

**_Ddraig Llyn, Earth_ **

 

“Dad, I need your help.”

Jack Harkness turned away from the console screen, where he’d been working on a mission brief for Torchwood.  He’d become a consultant on an as-needed basis ever since he and Ianto had decided to wait to have any more children, and his mate had accepted a position at Luna University, teaching a class on dragons, of all things.  From what Rowena kept saying, his course was one of the most popular on campus.

His eldest son, Clint, was standing in the doorway.  Jack hadn’t even heard the transmat activate, so engrossed was he in the brief.  Pregnancy suited him; Clint was about six months along, with his and Phillip’s first child.  But today he was concerned about something, a worried frown on his face as he regarded Jack, changeable eyes tired. 

He wasn’t alone.  Lisa was with him.  Her human form now looked to be in her late teens, her black hair cut in a short bob and her silver-green eyes just was worried as her brother’s. 

Lisa spent more time on Hubworld now than Ddraig Llyn.  She’d been drawn to Phillip almost from the moment she’d met him, as he reminded her of her birth father’s human form.  Plus, she’d always felt more comfortable with his calm and accepting manner, and he’d especially been understanding when she’d finally admitted to being the reincarnation of the ancient sorceress, Morgana le Fay. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked, standing.  “Is it the baby? Or is something wrong with Skylar?”  Skylar was the young indigo dragon the pair had adopted from the near-hundred eggs River Song had managed to collect throughout time.

Clint rubbed his slightly rounded belly absently.  “No, it’s not that.  And Skylar’s off with his theatre group.”  He sighed.  “Dad, Phillip’s vanished.”

Jack frowned.  “What do you mean?” he demanded, giving his eldest son his full attention. 

Something was very wrong.  Phillip wouldn’t have left Clint, not in this condition, so the only thing he could think of was foul play. 

He needed more information, though, before he could jump to conclusions like that.

Clint rubbed the back of his neck.  “About four days ago, Phillip got a call that had him leaving the house after midnight local time.  He called about five hours later, saying that he had Director Level business and that he would be gone about a day or so.”

Jack nodded.  Director Level meant that whatever had called Phillip away had been so important that he wouldn’t have been able to brief anyone on it, let alone take anyone with him…not even the Knights that still worked for Torchwood even though Arthur had long been retired.  Leon DeGrance was still the Senior Knight, and had been ever since he’d begun the cycle of reincarnations after Arthur and Merlin had come back.  He’d been joined by various other reincarnated souls, some from Phillip’s time as Director of SHIELD back millennia ago. 

He’d often wondered why no one from Torchwood had come back as well besides Clint, but Jack had just assumed that they hadn’t been exposed to the same magic that the others had.  And it wasn’t like there weren’t certain people he and Ianto had met along their lives that they hadn’t known right away were souls they’d once known, it was just that they didn’t remember their former lives…not like these did.  Perhaps someday they would, and when that happened Jack and Ianto would welcome them home.

“It’s been longer than he’d said he’d be gone,” Clint went on. “I’m getting worried and I can’t get a thing out of Melinda.”

“She might not know anything,” Jack answered.  “If it was really a Director Level event…”  There had been times when Jack had had to keep secret things from Ianto as well, so it made perfect sense that Phillip’s Second, the reincarnated Melinda May, wouldn’t have any information either.

“I know.  But certainly there would be records…Dad, it’s not like Phillip to stay out of contact like this.  Something’s happened, and there’s not a thing I can do about it!”  Clint was distraught, and that wasn’t good for the baby he was carrying.

Jack needed to fix this if he could. “And you want me to use my Director Level codes to find out.”

Clint nodded.  “You don’t even have to tell me a thing…I just want to know if he’s okay.”

“Please, Dad,” Lisa pleaded.  “I just know there’s something wrong…”

Jack looked at Lisa, well aware that, despite the fact that she’d been reborn without the powerful magic that Morgana le Fay had once wielded, she had an uncanny intuition about such things.  Also, Clint was right…Phillip wouldn’t have gone without communicating with him for so long, knowing that his mate was carrying his child.

“Alright,” he said.  “Let’s see what your mate is up to.”

The relief on both Clint’s and Lisa’s faces warmed him, that he was able to help two precious members of his family.

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

 

**_1 September 5192 (Earth Standard Date)_ **

**_Gliese 581g_ **

**_Hubworld_ **

****

“Director Harkness.”

Jack gave Melinda May the biggest smile he could conjure up as he leaned against her desk.  “Melinda, how’s things?”

The inscrutable face of Phillip’s Second looked up at him, not giving a thing away.  “I’m assuming you’re here because of Director Coulson being missing?”

This version of Phillip’s original Second didn’t put up with anything, and Jack secretly adored her.  Not in that way…but she was certainly a good foil for Phillip and he could remember when she’d shown up at Torchwood Tower a couple of years ago, slotting herself right back into Phillip’s life as if she’d never left it.  Guinevere, the previous Second, had immediately stepped down from her position and offered it to Melinda; but then, she’d been looking for an excuse to leave, so she could spend more time with her husband, Lancelot.  Guinevere had reincarnated into the position so many times that Melinda’s appearance had given her a reason to go and live her own life.

“You assume correctly,” he told her. 

Melinda’s eyes darted to Clint, who was standing just behind Jack, and then to Lisa with them, and something stressful seemed to leave her, her shoulders slumping slightly. “I was hoping that Clint would go to you,” she admitted, sounding frustrated.  “I’ve been worried about Phillip for days, but I don’t have the access.  He’s locked his office and I can’t get in, even if I _was_ able to hack the records and discover what he was up to.  And me contacting you directly would have been a breach of Torchwood protocol.”

“I’ll take care of it,” he promised.  He just wished that, whatever the hell had pulled Phillip away, that he’d come to Jack about it before disappearing off the face of the universe.  It might have saved them all a lot of worry.

Melinda nodded, rising from her desk and leaving her office.  Traditionally, Torchwood’s Second in Command had also been the Head Archivist, but that had changed when Arthur and Merlin had retired, nearly eighty years ago.  Guinevere hadn’t been an Archivist; she’d been Arthur’s personal assistant, and he’d been correct about her being a perfect Second, but that had meant that the position of Archivist had gone to someone else.

However, when Melinda had taken over, she’d also insisted on being in charge of the Archives once more.  While she also wasn’t a trained Archivist, she did know her way around paperwork and research, and she’d surrounded herself with a group of good people to help out. 

Melinda’s office was just off the main entrance of the Archives, at the very bottom of the Tower.  The room was windowless, but that never seemed to bother the people who’d worked there; Merlin had been the one to put in the portraits, many of them landscapes, to break up the walls a bit.  The only one that wasn’t a traditional painting was _Gallifrey Falls No More,_ taking up pride of place on the wall behind the large desk that was more often than not cluttered with files and artefacts.  Jack knew that Ianto had brought that painting from Earth when they’d moved Torchwood to Hubworld, and that it had once decorated the main hall of Torchwood House, the original Archive.

The four of them got into the lift, Melinda using her override to send the car up to the top floor, where the Director’s office was located, and where the heads of the Institute had their own offices.  Ostensibly, Melinda had a second office on that floor as well, but she never used it.

Jack was at the front of their group, striding toward Phillip’s office.  The desk outside was empty; when his former assistant, Bratsk, had finally retired, Lisa had been filling in while Phillip tried to find someone else to take the Zygon’s place.  It had been hard, Phillip had really relied on Bratsk, but even the long-lived Zygon race aged. 

The security panel by the office door was blinking red, signalling that its occupant was currently out.  Jack put his palm against the reader set in the wall, and then spoke his password; an optical viewer folded out from a slot above the reader, and Jack let it scan his retina.  There was a faint click, and the door opened, letting him into the office.

Jack bypassed the fancy holographic table against the wall and headed straight for the desk that sat in front of the large picture window that had one of the best views of Gliese City around, the mountains beyond the city glowing redly in the light from the planet’s primary.  The immortal sat in the ergonomic chair, waving his hand over a control, bringing out the keyboard that had been recessed within the top of the desk.  At the same time the computer monitor activated, displaying the familiar blue screensaver that had been a part of the Torchwood mainframe since the Hub in Old Cardiff.  He and Ianto had made certain the organic computer that had been a part of the Hub for centuries had been moved with them when they’d transferred the Institute’s headquarters to Hubworld, not wanting to leave her alone under the small inland sea that had inundated Cardiff during the Great Melt-off of 2050.

Clint, Lisa, and Melinda had followed him, and now stood in a row in front of the desk, watching as Jack input his Director Level codes and brought up the logs from a week ago.  There was a flagged file that caught his attention, and he opened it, scanning the report within.

He couldn’t help but curse in several languages at what it said.

“That bad?” Clint asked.  Jack glanced up at him; his son had gone pale, and his hand was resting on this stomach protectively.

Jack swallowed.  “Yeah, it’s that bad.”

He leaned back in the chair, wondering just how much he could share with them.  If he shared it with Clint, his son would want to go to the rescue, and Jack couldn’t allow that, not in his condition.  Besides, he didn’t want to get on Phillip’s bad side, and possibly risking the lives of his mate and child would have the mage calling a Rite of Vengeance down on Jack’s head so fast the immortal wouldn’t even have a chance to respond.

Clint had said he didn’t care what had happened to pull Phillip away, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t just saying that to allay Jack’s concerns.  And Lisa was just too young to be involved, even if she was carrying around a soul that had been alive back during one of the worst times in Earth history.  Hell, her previous self had _caused_ a lot of that, and she still had the nightmares because of it.

As for Melinda…there wasn’t much that Jack didn’t feel he could trust her with, but this…he chewed the inside of his cheek in thought.  He could always call Ianto, and his mate would come, but he didn’t want to disturb him at the beginning of term. 

Still, Ianto would want to know about this. 

Jack sighed.  He’d need to contact Arthur first…

“No, Dad, don’t tell me anything.”  Clint shook his head.  “I understand.  Just bring him home, okay?”

Lisa looked as if she wanted to argue, but Clint rested a hand on her shoulder, silencing whatever she was about to say.  Clint truly did understand, having been a part of the intelligence community long before he’d come to work for Torchwood in his previous life.  Yes, they’d been a bit looser with security levels than most agencies way back when, but there were still some things that only the Director could have access to, and his son got that.

“I will.”  _Anyway he could_ , Jack vowed silently.  Phillip might be immortal, and he could take a hell of a lot of damage, but there was still that chance that it would be catastrophic and that he wouldn’t survive.  He was like a dragon in that respect.  “I’m going to call in Arthur to help with this.  So I won’t be doing this alone.”

“And Tad?” Clint prompted.

Technically Ianto was designated a Second in Command, but Jack had long ago shared all the Director’s codes with him.  “Yes, and your Tad, when it’s time.”  Although, silently he told himself it wouldn’t be yet.  Ianto had enough on his plate at the moment.

Clint looked relieved at that, and Jack felt unbelievably honoured at the trust his eldest son was putting in him without being told what was going on.  “Alright.  Lisa and I will go on home and wait to hear back from you.”

“But Clint -”

“Trust Dad and Tad and Arthur, okay?” he begged, putting both hands on her shoulders and turning her so she faced him.  “They’ll bring him home.”

Lisa didn’t look happy, but she nodded in agreement. 

“Melinda,” Jack went on, “I’ll need you to take care of things here until we can get Phillip back.  I’m pretty sure Phillip gave you as high a clearance as he could without getting into anything at Director Level.”

Melinda nodded.  “I’ve even gotten pretty good at forging his signature.”  Her expression was blandly smug.

Jack gave her a smug smile of his own.  “All the best Seconds can.”  Ianto had learned that very early on in their time with Torchwood as well.  “And you can contact me directly if anything comes up that you _can’t_ handle.”

She nodded in acknowledgement. 

“Come on,” Clint urged, “let’s let Dad get on with what he needs to do.”  He ushered Lisa and Melinda out of the room, closing the door behind them, leaving Jack alone at the desk.

He could already feel the headache coming on.

“Damnit, Phillip,” he swore, rubbing the bridge of his nose, “why didn’t you come to me with this?”

He knew the answer even as he was asking the question.  Phillip was Director of Torchwood, and had been for almost one hundred years; while Jack had been retired for almost two _thousand_ years.  He was used to doing things on his own.  However, he’d left the information for Jack to find, knowing his mate well enough to realise that Clint would come to his Dad after a specific amount of time being incommunicado.  He was certainly glad that his son was that predictable.

Sighing, Jack miniaturised the files on the monitor and called up the comms system.  He used the personal code for Arthur, calling his grandson first.  He really needed to speak to Arthur before he could even _think_ of contacting Ianto.

Arthur answered almost immediately.  _“Grandfather. What can I do for you?”_ He looked concerned, but not worried like Jack had expected.

“Where’s Merlin?”  Jack didn’t feel like beating around the bush; something was going on, and it was already affecting far too many members of his family. 

His grandson frowned.  _“He’s at the Magic School. It’s the beginning of term, and he’s always busy this time of year.  What’s this about?”_

Alright, this wasn’t good.  If Arthur didn’t know what his own mate was up to… “No, he isn’t, Arthur.  He’s been missing for about six days.”

Arthur’s eyes widened.  _“I haven’t heard from him in a while but when he gets busy with the students…are you sure?”_ And there was the worry that Jack had expected to see when he’d first answered.

“I am.”  Jack explained what he’d found in the Director’s file. 

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

 

**_29 August 5192 (Earth Standard Date)_ **

**_Doctor Moon, in orbit around the Library_ **

**_(Four Standard Days Previously)_ **

****

The TARDIS came to a landing with its usual grinding and groaning, and with a shudder it stopped at its destination.

To be honest, the Doctor didn’t want to be there.

However, the note that had been on the psychic paper had been urgent, and he knew from experience that Phillip Coulson-Jones wasn’t given to flights of over-imagination.  So, he’d gone along with it, and there he was…

No, he didn’t want to think about what had occurred there, so long ago and yet not all that far in the past.

He’d done what Phillip had asked, and left his companion, Clara, behind with her parents.  The Doctor didn’t really like travelling alone, but he’d agreed with the request simply because he didn’t feel like answering all the questions Clara would have.  As a matter of fact, he actually hadn’t introduced Clara to hardly any of the extended family he’d seemed to gained over the course of this regeneration.  Merlin had met her, of course, but for some reason neither of them had admitted their relationship.  He really had no idea why that was. 

The Doctor grabbed his coat from where he’d thrown it over the railing near the door, and then made his way out of the TARDIS.  As he stepped over the threshold he felt a sudden sense of support, and he stroked his fingers against the wood-like surface of his machine as he closed the door behind him.

The room he’d materialised in was plain, almost like a small cupboard only lined with metal.  There was a door, standing open to reveal a corridor beyond. 

Phillip Coulson-Jones was waiting for him.

The man hadn’t changed at all since the last time the Doctor had seen him, but that didn’t really surprise him all that much.  The current Director of the Torchwood Institute wasn’t wearing the usual black uniform tunic; instead, Phillip was dressed almost casually for the man, in a pair of black trousers, blue pullover, and sensible shoes; the brown leather of what looked like a Vortex Manipulator peeked out from under one of his sleeves.  If the Doctor didn’t know better he would have sworn that Phillip was just a normal man, and not the immortal Director of an organisation that had mapped the destiny of the current Human Empire since its beginnings.

If the Doctor was honest with himself – and he always tried to be, until he wasn’t – Phillip’s immortality fascinated and horrified him in equal measure.  The Time Lord was well aware of just what had gone into Phillip’s particular brand of immortality…a combination of magic and technology that should never have occurred, and that had caused such misery to the person it had been done to. 

He really couldn’t tell by looking at him that the man standing there was immortal; not like he could Jack, and to smaller extent Ianto and their children.  The Doctor wasn’t so sure that was a good thing.

“Doctor,” Phillip greeted him.  He seemed friendly enough, so this couldn’t be over something that the Time Lord had inadvertently done.

“Director Coulson!” the Doctor said in return, walking right up to the man and shaking his hand enthusiastically.  A small part of him would always be wary of the man, simply because of how dangerous he was, but he did genuinely like Phillip.  He was a good man in a difficult job, and could always be counted on doing the best he possibly could.

Phillip took his hand back in such a way that the Doctor didn’t even feel insulted.  “Thank you for coming.”

“You made it sound serious.”

“It is.”  Phillip ushered him out of the room and into the corridor.  It was short, leading toward what resembled a control room. There were various pieces of equipment around, and he thought they might be for communications and monitoring.  “I’m just sorry it had to be here…I know what this place means to you.”

The Doctor could tell he was being genuine, and he waved off the apology.  “No, if you needed me here, then here I am.”

“I wouldn’t have called if it wasn’t necessary.”  He motioned to one of the two chairs.

The Doctor took it, sprawling as if he felt perfectly relaxed…which he wasn’t, of course.  Not be a long shot.  “So…what’s going on?” 

Phillip sank into one of the other chairs, and the Doctor could tell just how tired he was.  “Yesterday,” he began, “I received an alarm from this facility – “

“Just what do you do here?” the Doctor enquired.  “It looks like some sort of automated listening post if I know my equipment…and I do, of course.”

Phillip didn’t even react to that.  “Yes, it is.  Torchwood set this and the satellite system up to make sure any idiots didn’t get it into their heads to visit the Library looking to loot the place.  It was the best we could do once the planetary shields had been taken down, during the last expedition here.”

The Time Lord flinched at the allusion to the events that had led to the second abandonment of the Library. The Lux family had hacked the shields in order to get back into the Library, and there hadn’t been a way to get them back up.

What Torchwood had done made sense.  The Doctor was well aware that there were people out there who wouldn’t have been able to resist the lure of the Library, even though it was as close to a death sentence as one could get to set foot on the planet’s surface.  “And do you get a lot of them?  Idiots, I mean.”

“In the beginning, yes.  But as rumours got around that no one returned from the Library, they petered out.  We hadn’t had an attempted incursion in nearly fifty years.”

The Doctor wasn’t at all sure what he was needed there for.  It seemed as if Torchwood had things well in hand, and he said so.

“I wouldn’t have called you if this had been just a normal case of privateers thinking they could get around the Vashta Nerada,” Phillip answered.  “In fact, I ignored the original alarm that came through my comm, knowing that anyone setting foot within the Library wouldn’t last long, and if they did, I’d be able to send an Imperial Patrol ship after them to make certain they weren’t bringing anything out they shouldn’t.  It was…well, the other readings I received about an hour later from the equipment here that triggered the Director Level alert that brought me out here.”

The utter seriousness in his expression had the Doctor sitting up and leaning forward.  “What happened?”

Phillip ran his hand through his thinning hair, and if that wasn’t a tell that something was seriously wrong then nothing was.  Phillip Coulson-Jones was about as unflappable as they came, and for him to be showing such a case of nerves was unheard of in the Doctor’s experience with the immortal.

“There was a sudden burst of energy from the planet’s surface.”  Phillip sighed. “It was as if a bomb had gone off down below.  But the readings…it wasn’t any sort of technological device that had put out that burst of energy…”

The Doctor stiffened.  “It was magic.”  Really, if anyone would have recognised a magical burst, it would have been the man sitting opposite him, with him being a mage and all.

The Director nodded.  “The burst was so powerful it wiped out at least two-thirds of the Vashta Nerada on the planet.”

The Time Lord whistled.  “There can’t be that many wizards in the Universe with that sort of power…” he stopped talking, his mind catching up with what he’d just said.

His hearts beat once, out of sync, and he suddenly couldn’t breathe.

Phillip must have read his mind, because he nodded once more.  “I wanted to ask his advice on what had happened,” he said, “and because I didn’t want to believe it, but…”  he didn’t want to say it, it was obvious from the tiredness in his eyes, but he swallowed and went on.  “I checked.  He was supposed to have been on New Avalon, but he’d gone missing a couple of days ago and no one even knew he’d left.”

“No no no no no…”  The Doctor was up and out of his chair, denying what Phillip was saying.  “That’s not possible…”

Now he knew why Phillip had sent for him, and why he’d made it sound so important.  If what he was beginning to suspect was true…

“You know him,” Phillip pressed on. “You know he’s always wanted to find some way to save her…”

“But he can’t!”  The Doctor was pacing, so full of energy now that he couldn’t be restrained.  There was no way to do what his son had often wished for…

To bring his mother back to life.

The Doctor had been there, in his former regeneration.  His Tenth self had met River Song for the first – and last – time down in the Library, and that was where he’d lost her for good, preventing him from sacrificing himself to rescue the souls that had been ‘saved’ within the computer that still ran the Library and its systems, and its immense Data Core, where Cal existed…and where he’d sent the mind of the woman he’d loved in order to save at least a part of her, long before he’d even known how he’d felt about her. 

Yes, River’s mind was somewhere within the Library, but her body was long dead.  There was no way to reunite them.  And Merlin hadn’t even been able to go and visit her there, what with the Vashta Nerada having taken over.

The Doctor knew just how much Merlin missed his mother.  It was actually one of the reasons he stayed away from his only son, because he just couldn’t handle being around him and seeing her in his features, and his loneliness for his parents even though he had an entire family surrounding him.  The Doctor loved his son more than anything, but he knew in his hearts he just couldn’t be what Merlin needed.

Maybe that had been a mistake.

Maybe if he’d been around more often, Merlin wouldn’t have wished to find his mother quite so badly.

“There are certain rules regarding magic,” Phillip continued.  “One of those basic rules is a life for a life.  And if it was him and he was down there, and responsible for killing all those Vashta Nerada in order to get Professor Song back…”

“No,” the Doctor denied adamantly.  “Merlin’s no killer, and that’s dark magic.  He wouldn’t do something like that.  You know him, Phillip…you know how he is.  He can’t even swat a fly!”

He was suddenly very angry at the notion that this human had dared to think that Merlin would have been responsible for what had been a near-act of genocide against the Vashta Nerada in the Library.  Yes, the creatures were dangerous if they were in a large enough swarm – and face it, that was what the entire Library was, a trillion trillion strong swarm – but they were doing no harm down on the planet below.  These Vashta Nerada were particularly vicious, but if the Doctor really thought about it they had a right to be.   That was their forest down there, and they were merely protecting it from interlopers.  Merlin would understand that. 

They were also sentient in gestalt, and killing so many would have whipped the others into a frenzy.  Nothing living down there would survive for long, so whoever had set off that magical bomb would most likely be dead when the rest of the creatures moved into the area in order to defend their lost kin. 

Phillip slumped in his seat.  “I know,” he admitted.  “I think I just needed to hear you say it.”

The Doctor was somewhat mollified by the director’s words. 

“But Merlin is still missing,” Phillip went on.  “There was a sudden burst of magic down in the Library that really only one person could have conjured.  We need to find out what caused it, and find the ones responsible.  The Vashta Nerada might be voracious, but they still are a registered life form, and it’s within Torchwood’s purview to investigate such an act…”

“Of course I’m going to help,” the Doctor waved off the unspoken question.  “I do agree with your supposition that Merlin is somehow involved, but I just don’t think he’s responsible.”  And there was a difference. 

Phillip seemed to know that as well, because he nodded.  “I’m with you on that, although I have to say that desperate people do tend to do desperate things…”

The Doctor couldn’t argue with that.  He’d seen enough of that in his time…he’d _been_ one of those desperate people as well, and was well aware just what a person was capable of when they thought they either didn’t have anything to lose, or believed there wasn’t anything else they could do. 

“So,” he said, clapping his hands together, “do we use your wrist strap to get down there, or take the TARDIS?  And is it just us, or are you going to be calling in the troops?”  He would have rather handled it himself; soldiers tended to make things messier.

“I want to keep this just between the two of us for now, because as far as I’m concerned it’s family business until we know otherwise.  And this isn’t a teleport.”  Phillip pushed his sleeve up, revealing the leather about his wrist…or really, his forearm.  “It’s my shield generator, left over from my days on the Shieldsmen.”  He shrugged, one shouldered.  “Old habits are hard to break.  I got here using the transmat we set up on this post when we first built it.”

That shouldn’t have surprised the Doctor more than it did.  He supposed he was so used to seeing a Vortex Manipulator on various wrists that it became second nature to assume that was what it was.  He really should have known better; his son and his mate had been the ones to shut down the Time Agency and to retrieve all of the Manipulators out there, as best they could.

But then, Phillip Coulson had been the one to suggest the Time Agency in the first place.

Talk about a causal loop…he was looking at the man at the heart of a doozy.  It was one of the major reasons the Doctor never went back and tore into Nicholas Fury for doing what he’d done.  Phillip Coulson-Jones had become a fixed point within the timelines, only in a different way from a certain other immortal of his acquaintance.

“And I don’t trust the Library’s original transporter,” Phillip went on, tugging his sleeve back down.  “I don’t want Cal to think she’s ‘saving’ us and we end up in the Data Core.”

The Doctor hid his slight flinch at that, reacting to the reminder even though he knew Phillip didn’t mean it the way the Time Lord’s unconsciousness wanted to accept it. He’d put River’s mind into the core, and while it had seemed like a win-win situation at the time, he’d had a chance to rethink it and wonder if he hadn’t just managed to torture at least two people with the knowledge that River was out there, but unreachable.

Perhaps it would have been better to have had something to grieve over.

‘Then it’s by TARDIS then,” he said, trying to sound flippant.  Although, judging from Phillip’s expression he’d failed horribly.

The man reached out, snagging the cuff of the Doctors’ coat.  His eyes were solemn as he said, “I really am sorry that I had to call you in on this.”

The thing was, the Doctor could tell he was completely sincere.  Phillip was apologetic at having to involve him in something that was going to rake up old memories and cause him actual hearts’ ache. 

Once again, the Doctor was amazed at humankind’s ability to be so completely sympathetic.

But then, it could have just been the man who was sitting in that chair, with the hands that were, if possible, even colder than a Time Lord’s and was quite possibly one of the most dangerous people the Doctor could ever hope to meet.

He was really glad that Phillip was not an enemy.  The Doctor wasn’t certain he would have been able to defeat him very easily.

The Doctor didn’t answer; he simply nodded once, acknowledging the apology and forgiving him for it.  From the small, genuine smile he received, Phillip understood his silent communication completely.

“Let me get a few things together,” the ice mage said, standing, and releasing his grip.  “I have a scanner and some powerful torches we can use, and hopefully that will keep the Vashta Nerada at bay without having to kill any more of them.”

“I’ll wait for you at the TARDIS.”

The Doctor turned and left the room, without watching Phillip leave, lost in thought.  Back during his last regeneration, he’d been so against Torchwood he’d let that also colour his opinion of Jack and Ianto, but he’d long ago realised just how wrong it had been to tar Jack’s version and the one under Yvonne Hartman with the same brush. Yes, they did things he didn’t necessarily agree with – the Master being one of them – but then, if everyone agreed with him then the universe would be a very dull place.  Plus, he could see their reasoning for doing what they’d done, although it had taken the Doctor a long time for that.  There was a small part of him that would never completely forgive Ianto for killing the Master, and for Jack for condoning it, but he could also understand the need to act in vengeance against someone who hurt a loved one.  He’d done the same thing himself a couple of times.

Phillip not wanting to injure the Vashta Nerada unless it was necessary was just one more tick in the “Torchwood is a Force for Good in the Universe” box.

Not that he didn’t already know that, of course.  It was just nice to have it reinforced.

The TARDIS was humming in greeting when he laid a hand against her warm wooden door.  “Looks like we’re going to be heading back down to the Library, old girl,” he murmured against her bright blue paint.  “Didn’t think we’d ever be doing that again.”

The silent support he felt from her was soothing, and he closed his eyes, resting his forehead against his oldest friend.  Sometimes he wished he could still speak to her face-to-face, but that just wasn’t meant to be. 

“Are you alright?”

The Doctor turned to regard Phillip, a rucksack over his shoulder, looking concerned.  That expression warmed him almost as the TARDIS’ acceptance did, although he couldn’t explain why.

“I’m just fine,” he answered, “well, by fine I mean I’m heading down to the place where my wife died, but other than that…yep, just fine.”

That earned him an eye roll that looked fond.  It left the Doctor wondering why he’d never really got to know this man better than he had.  He got the feeling that Phillip would have made an excellent companion. 

“As long as we’re both fine,” he said dryly, “why don’t we get this show on the road?”

“That is an excellent idea.”  With a flourish, the Doctor had the TARDIS door open and was ushering Torchwood’s Director inside. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever been inside the TARDIS,” he commented as he stepped over the threshold.  “I’ve heard about it, of course…”

With that, his voice faded, and the Doctor felt unbelievably smug at having knocked the usually unperturbable immortal into silence.

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

 

**_1 September 5192 (Earth Standard Date)_ **

**_New Avalon_ **

****

Jack arrived at the main transmat terminal on New Avalon, to find his grandson waiting for him.

Arthur Pendragon, the Once and Future King and Former Director of the Torchwood Institute, was dressed in casual clothing, although he had Excalibur at his side, as was his habit.  His blond hair was rumpled as if he’d been running his fingers constantly through it, very much different from the usual calm, collected Star Dragon Arthur usually was.

He had good reason to be upset.

“Grandfather,” he greeted as Jack pulled him into a hug.

“Arthur.”  As Jack held his grandson close, he could feel small tremors in his body.  He was as upset about the situation as Clint had been, although Clint didn’t know what had taken Phillip away from his family. 

If they were lucky, Phillip was still alive.  If not…

No, he couldn’t even consider that.  Phillip might have been in trouble, but there was no evidence of anything else. 

It was the same with Merlin.  They had no idea what had taken him away from New Avalon, only what Phillip suspected but not wanted to believe.  Jack had to admit it made sense, in a way; but he didn’t want to even consider the idea that Merlin would do such a thing, even to get his mother back. 

Jack pulled back slightly, in order to look at Arthur full in the face.  “We’re going to find them,” he vowed. 

Arthur took a deep breath. “You’re right, of course,” he agreed.  “We don’t have enough information yet about what actually happened.” Then his shoulders slumped.  “But Grandfather…it’s _Merlin_ …I don’t want to think he’d attempt such a thing.”

“I don’t either.  Neither did Phillip, when it came down to it.”  He gripped his grandson’s shoulders a bit harder, trying to ground him.  “But we have to at least consider that something’s happened to Merlin to take him away from here…and to Phillip, now that he’s been missing.”

“Let’s get to the house,” Arthur said. “I don’t want to talk out in public like this.”

Jack agreed, and together the pair of them left the transmat facility, and out into the city itself. 

Camelot was the capitol of New Avalon.  It was a very modern city, all chrome, glass, and stone, although not many of the buildings were over five storeys tall.  Vehicles travelled along well-kept paved roads, while pedestrian traffic kept to the walkways that not only were on ground level, but connected many of the buildings, usually from the third or fourth floors, their clear walls glittering in the blue-white of the planet’s primary.  Off in the distance Jack could make out the governmental building, resembling nothing more than a medieval castle, minarets towering over the rest of the structures around it.  Jack knew for a fact that it embarrassed Arthur slightly that the citizens had taken the name of the city to heart and had constructed what amounted to their version of the ancient keep he’d once ruled from, and that had been _before_ he and Merlin had made this place a second home, bringing the first of the Empire’s magical universities here. Merlin would often stay there during the school year, and Arthur would join him later. 

Jack also knew that the current governor had tried to step down once Arthur and Merlin had moved there, and had offered the position to Arthur.  His grandson had turned it down, saying that once he’d decided to retire from Torchwood, that meant he would be spending his time with his family and not mired in political claptrap.  Still, the governor did come to Arthur for advice when they were in residence there, which secretly pleased him even though, in public, he’d often grumble about it.

The immortal had asked Merlin why he’d chartered the school here, and not on the site of the original Avalon – which was still owned by Anwyn, from back during that mess with GenCorp.  Merlin had said that there were too many sad memories associated with the place, and that he’d wanted to make a fresh start.  Besides, Earth was just a little out of the way of Galactic Centre and he hadn’t wanted to make his students come so far to him at that time.

“How’s Rory?” Jack enquired as they walked.  He knew they drew stares: Arthur, with his sword in plain sight; and Jack, dressed somewhat anachronistically and in his usual RAF greatcoat.  It wasn’t his original coat; that one had, unfortunately, worn out thousands of years ago.  However, Ianto would always somehow find him a replacement when it was time, as well as his familiar Webley revolver, and Jack suspected the Doctor was somehow involved.

It would be his great-grandson’s seventy-eighth birthday next month, and was shaping up to be almost as powerful a wizard as his father.  Jack was inordinately proud of him, and he knew for a fact that Ianto spoiled him as often as he could.

“He’s fine,” Arthur answered.  “I…I’ve only told him that Merlin’s missing.  I don’t want to say much more until we know something that _didn’t_ clash with Torchwood protocol.”

Jack didn’t blame Arthur for that.  Besides, they really didn’t have a lot of information yet, just a few vague suppositions.  “I bet he’s trying to get more out of you though.”

Arthur snorted, “Of course he is.  He’s been trying to wheedle more out of me ever since I showed up on our doorstep here completely unexpectedly, so don’t be surprised if he does that with you, too.  Grandmother Samara, Grandfather Rhys, and Nicole are here too, and they’re all helping to keep his curiosity under control, but it’s obvious to him that something is really wrong.”  He sighed.  “Why didn’t I notice?  Damnit…Merlin is my _mate_.  I should have checked on him after he’d been out of contact for even a planetary day…”

“How were you supposed to know?” Jack returned.  “Arthur, you were on a completely different planet at the time.  Hell, Mom, Rhys, Rory and Nicole _live_ here, and they didn’t notice anything.  You _know_ how Merlin is, son.  He gets tied up in things, and before you know it, it’s been days and you haven’t seen hide nor hair of him, and you have to go and drag him off from whatever hole he’s found to occupy himself in.”

“Goddess, that’s true,” Arthur barked a laugh.  “He’d even get lost in the Hoard.”

The Hoard was the nickname for the Torchwood Archives on Hubworld, and Jack had to laugh along.  Those tunnels and chambers had been hollowed out of the bedrock of the planet itself, and were a maze that, if one didn’t have a map, one could very easily get lost in.  The only person Jack knew that never had done was Ianto, but then he’d been the one to design that labyrinth in the first place.

“Until we know more,” he pointed out, “there’s no need to get completely upset about his being missing.  We only have the handful of facts that Phillip had managed to pull together.  Plus, we know that he fully intended on contacting the Doctor to help, and he did ask Sabrina to look into things here.”

It was just that it had been four days, and Jack would have thought that Phillip would have been in contact long before now, especially with Clint being pregnant.  That didn’t mean that the Doctor’s aim with the TARDIS hadn’t been completely screwed up.  They could have ended up anywhere that _wasn’t_ their destination, because the Doctor, despite his many protests, was a shit pilot…

The building where Merlin and Arthur and their family lived in wasn’t that far from the transmat terminal, a three-storey structure made up of flats, one on each floor.  The Pendragon-Williams-Songs lived in the topmost flat, where Arthur had access to the roof on the days he wanted to fly.  They could have bought their own place, but as Merlin had pointed out they were only there for part of the planetary year, and a house would have been too much to upkeep when they weren’t around to live there.

Still, the flat was large.  It might have been a single floor, but it had four bedrooms, a lounge, a large kitchen, den, and an office for Merlin for when he was teaching.  For a residence that was only used for a portion of the year, it was very homey, with touches that marked it as very much as somewhere a family lived.

There were pictures all over the place, of every member of what Ianto was fond of calling the Harkness-Jones Horde.  Of them all, however, the majority of them were of Arthur and Merlin, along with Rory at various ages.  Jack couldn’t help but smile softly.  He had what he’d once thought impossible: a large family, one that would have a legacy that would carry on for a very long time.

“Grandfather!”

Jack spun around at the shout, just in time to catch his great-grandson, Rory Pendragon-Song, in his arms for a massive hug.  Even though he was seventy-seven – soon to be a year older – in human years, in dragon age that was still a child.  There were times when Rory acted quite mature…and this wasn’t one of them, judging from just how hard he was holding on.  “It’s going to be okay,” Jack soothed, rubbing a hand up and down his back. 

“I know you’ll find him,” Rory whispered.  “You and Father…you’ll find him.”

“Count on it.”  While Jack couldn’t promise what condition they’d find Merlin in, he would at least do his damnedest to bring Rory’s Dad home.

Reluctantly, Jack pulled away, keeping his hands on his great-grandson’s arms.  “Now, your father and I need to talk about a few things that you can’t be around for, okay?”

Rory’s brilliant blue eyes, with their circle of gold around the irises, were glassy with tears and terror.  He was so much like his two fathers; tall and broad like Arthur, with Merlin’s black hair and cheekbones.  His eyes as well, showing the boy’s connection with both magic and time.  He was also the first of the Star Dragons to have been born with two hearts – taking after his other grandfather and father in that respect – and Merlin thought he might also have the ability to regenerate, although no one would know that until much later.  A perfect combination of dragon and Time Lord.

Jack glanced over Rory’s shoulder to see his granddaughter, Nicole Jones-Coulson, standing beside Arthur, her own expression very worried.  He met her two-pupiled gaze, which always looked a bit stern even when she was overcome with other emotions, one web-fingered hand fluttering around the collar of her blouse in a helpless manner.  Jack guessed then that she must have discovered that her own father was also missing; Phillip might not have been related to her by blood, but she’d accepted her biological father’s mate with open arms and considered herself Phillip’s daughter as well as Clint’s.

Samara and Rhys were there as well.  When his mother had married his long-time friend, Jack had been ecstatic.  It had been a near-perfect union in many ways; Rhys had come to New Avalon to work in Logistics for the school, and Merlin had been pleased as punch to let him take over.  Now a robust one-hundred thirteen years old, Rhys had quite happily retired over fifteen years ago, the greater lifespans in this time benefiting him greatly. 

Now, he and Jack’s Mom had their own family, and it had been such a surprise when Jack had gotten a sister out of their mating.

Rory looked as if he wanted to argue with being banished from the conversation, but Samara stepped forward, putting a hand on his shoulder.  “Come on,” she urged.  “We’re not Torchwood and there are things we can’t know.”

“But Gran…” he whined.

“It’s going to be okay, kiddo,” Nicole stepped in.

“No, it’s not!” Rory exclaimed, his pale face going a little red in his anger. 

“Rory,” Arthur cut into what would most likely have become a full-blown strop, “Your Uncle Phillip is missing as well.  She understands.”

Rory’s face fell, and he nodded.  “I’m sorry, Nicole.”

She managed to dredge up a wan smile.  “It’s fine, Rory.  Believe me, I wish we could stay, but the sooner we leave Arthur and Granddad to discuss what they’re going to do, the sooner they can get to work bringing our Dads back.”

“Mom,” Jack suggested, “why don’t you and Rhys pack bags for Nicole and Rory and go and stay with Clint and Lisa on Hubworld?  I’m sure they’d both love the company.”

“That’s a great idea,” Samara agreed. 

“But we have classes – “

“And you think you’ll both be able to concentrate?” Arthur asked.  “Go and get a few things, Rory.  Staying with Uncle Clint and Aunt Lisa would be best.”

“Besides,” Jack added, “if you’re both on Hubworld, you’ll get the news faster than if you stay here.”

That seemed to decide things for Rory, who left the room in a rush.  Nicole followed a bit more slowly, but not before receiving her own hug from her grandfather.  Samara and Rhys followed, Rhys patting Jack’s shoulder in solidarity.  “I know you’ll bring ‘em back,” he murmured confidently as he left the room.

Jack was grateful for the support.

Arthur seemed to lose a bit more of the tension that had been evident in his stiff shoulders and back.  “That was a good idea.  I’ll feel better if Rory is with family, and I can arrange to have him off classes for the time being.”

“You go and do that, and I’ll help the pair of them get ready.”

Arthur nodded, taking out his personal comm and asking to speak to the headmaster of the university.  Jack left him to it, moving deeper into the flat toward Rory’s room.

His great-grandson’s room was just as cluttered as any teenage boy’s would have been, even with a neat freak father like Merlin was; Arthur was a bit more lax in his housekeeping duties, and he’d often said that, as long as he knew where everything was, a little bit of a mess never hurt anyone.  Merlin had often teased his mate about it being a throwback to their first life together, when Merlin had been Arthur’s servant and, as King, could order him to clean up after him.  Arthur would simply roll his eyes, at which Merlin would call him names that might have been insulting to anyone else but, for them, were extremely affectionate.

Jack had often wondered just how Merlin had come up with the term _clotpole_ and then decided not to ask, for the sake of his peace of mind.

Rory was stuffing something into a large bag as Rhys supervised, and from the shape Jack figured it was shirts.  Ianto would have been all over their great-grandson for treating clothing like that, but the immortal decided not to say anything about it, and apparently his father-by-marriage thought the same thing, since he was simply sitting there in silent support. 

Jack leaned against the door jamb, just watching the younger man, content to wait him out to say anything.  He met Rhys’ eyes, and his former teammate nodded in response. 

Finally, Rory must not have been able to wait any longer, because he blurted, “And you can’t tell me anything about what happened to Dad?” Then he added, “And Uncle Phillip?”

“Sorry, kiddo,” Jack replied.  He hated keeping secrets from family, but this was Torchwood, and there were still laws on the books that said disseminating such information was a treasonous act…even if it was to family.  Once upon a time, even letting civilians into the secret of Ianto being a dragon had been included in those laws, but that had changed after that mess with the Cybermen in New York.  It hadn’t stopped Ianto from sharing with those people he absolutely trusted, but the then-people in charge had respected Ianto’s freedom to inform certain folks.

It was even worse with Director Level events…and this was such a thing.  Jack really couldn’t even tell his mate, but then he’d long ago given Ianto the Director codes simply because the dragon might as well have been co-Director, only Ianto had only ever insisted on his titles being Second and Head Archivist.  He’d claimed it was because he wanted to respect Jack’s position, which was sweet in a way, but that hadn’t stopped him from gradually reading Ianto in on a lot of things that any other Second wouldn’t have known.

“Torchwood’s like that,” Rhys replied.  “Been in it long enough myself to know there’s secrets within secrets, and your Great-Granddad can’t say a thing about it.  But he would if he could.”

Rory sighed.  “I get it…I really do.  But can I say that Torchwood stinks?”

Jack had to laugh.  “You wouldn’t be wrong at that.”

That got him a faint smile.  “I know you and Father will do everything you can.”

“Too right they will,” Rhys affirmed.

The immortal was touched by that simple, honest, faith.  There were days when he wasn’t certain he deserved that sort of thing, and today one was one of those.  He only had the information that Phillip had left, and that was from four days ago.  It was out of date, and there was only one way to get new information.  It was a good thing that Phillip had set _that_ into motion before he’d disappeared.  Jack had just wished he’d waited for that to pan out before haring off to the Library with the Doctor.

Jack moved into the room, and began helping Rory get his things together, trying to break the tension by telling the rather outlandish story about the time the young dragon’s parents had nearly caused a diplomatic incident when they’d been children, and how Anwyn and Ianto had had to chase them all over the place in order to fix their messes, all the while Merlin kept using his magic to jinx things. 

Rory was actually laughing by the time he’d packed and back out into the lounge, where Nicole, Samara, and Arthur were waiting.  Nicole was looking a little better, and Jack assumed that his mother and Arthur had done what they could to encourage her as well. 

“You’re going to need to look after your Dad,” Jack told her.  “You know the stress isn’t going to be good for the baby.”

She nodded.  “I understand.  It’s going to be hard…but I’ll do my best.  Is Skylar at his theatre group?”

“He is, and Clint hasn’t told him yet.  You’re going need to help him with that, too, sweetheart, when he does do it.”

“I will.”  Nicole closed her eyes, letting out a long breath.  “Goddess.  This is such a mess…”

“It is, but we’re going to fix it.”

Jack had no idea where the certainty in his voice was coming from.  They really had no idea what was going to happen when they eventually caught up with Phillip and Merlin.  Hell, they needed to know before they really _could_ do anything.

But his family had confidence in him, to make things right.  He could even see it in Arthur, as he fussed over Rory and then kissed his son’s forehead, earning himself a strident, “Dad!” from the younger dragon.  Arthur ruffled Rory’s unruly hair, saying, “You should head out.  I already called Clint, and he’s waiting for you all at his house.”

“Call us as soon as you hear anything,” Rory commanded, looking at both of the elder adults in the room.

“We will,” Arthur promised.

And with that, they were gone, heading toward the transmat station.  Jack was glad that Merlin had insisted that the city install one; he would have hated to put the pair of them on a ship to send them to Hubworld.  It also allowed him to move quickly, instead of having to wait, even though the transmat system had almost fallen out of favour now that the Human Empire was simply too large to support it.

As soon as the door had closed after them, Jack was saying, “I know you and I are going to have to head out to the Library, but the first thing we should do is confirm Merlin’s movements before he vanished.  Phillip didn’t have time to check into too much before he left, but I’m sure by now that Sabrina will have discovered something...”

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

 

**_1 September 5192 (Earth Standard Date)_ **

**_New Avalon_ **

 

The University of Magic – or more colloquially called the Magic School – occupied nearly ten square miles of property outside the city of Camelot.  It had started off small, but as more and more magic users became known, it had grown to its current size, and was one of the five main schools for magical learning in the Human Empire.

All of them were ostensibly run by Merlin Williams-Song, but even someone as duty-oriented as Jack’s grandson-by-mating couldn’t do it all; and in the early days, the wizard had also been Second-in-Command of Torchwood as well. 

Merlin had done the only thing he could: he created a Board of Educators, to run the University Network and to make certain things were under control.  Merlin really only had nominal control over _anything_ , which was really the way he liked it. 

He did teach several courses a term, mostly the beginner’s classes, although he did have a couple of advanced courses for those students who had moved beyond what could be taught by the regular professors.  He usually had about half a dozen students at a time in his advanced course, which was perfect for the wizard, since anything larger than that and Merlin would have been tearing his hair out. 

He'd once tried to talk Phillip into teaching a course on ice magicks, but Phillip had declined, saying that he had enough trouble controlling his powers as it was.  It had also meant he’d have to divide his time between Torchwood and the school, and being the Director was a bit different from taking on the Second-in-Command duties.  He simply hadn’t been able to devote the time.

The campus was beautiful in what passed for summer on New Avalon.  The trees were brilliant green, and the smell of newly-mowed grass tickled Jack’s nose as he and Arthur went to their meeting with one of Jack’s daughters, Sabrina Jones-Swann, one of the top undercover operatives for the Torchwood Institute.  She was one of his and Ianto’s younger daughters, at a fairly respectable seven hundred and seventy-seven years of age.  Still young for a dragon, but she was the best at ferreting out information when it was needed.  Phillip had chosen well when he’d asked her to come to New Avalon to snoop around.

Ironically, they were to meet at the campus tea shop.  It was a branch of _Star Teas,_ the conglomerate started by one of Jack and Ianto’s younger daughters, Pryce.  Jack had had to laugh when Ianto had discovered that StarTeas Group had been owned by their own child, and didn’t serve coffee.  Their dragon patriarch had been scandalised that one of his own children didn’t like coffee at all, and had opened up _tea_ shops, of all things. 

But it wasn’t just tea shops.  There were plantations on several worlds.  Pryce had built up a galactic business from that first tea shop, and it now had shops on most Imperial worlds. 

For a dragon only five hundred eighty-one years old, it was very impressive.  Jack was quite proud of her.

Pryce, though, had been born with her Tad’s common _and_ business sense.  If Jack had to point to any of their brood as being the savviest, he would have automatically said it was Pryce.  The whole lot of their children were intelligent – well, Cadi might be the exception because, while she was smart, she flatly refused to give up her criminal ways – but Pryce was another level of brilliant entirely.

 _Star Teas_ was on the University’s main quad, in the area where most of the shops that serviced the school were located.  The quad was almost at the exact centre of the campus; there were five different walkways that opened up onto it, students bustling through on their way to various classes at that time of the day.

Jack and Arthur received looks from the youngsters as they cut through the quad; most of them had to at least recognise Excalibur, from where it hung from Arthur’s belt.  Everyone knew that Merlin, the son of the last Time Lord and greatest wizard in the universe, had founded the University, and that his mate was the Once and Future King of Earth legend, so the man wearing the ancient sword would have been instantly identifiable. 

Jack, not so much, but then he was well aware of the effect of the greatcoat. 

He held the door of the shop open for Arthur, then followed him inside.  _Star Teas_ was a one-storey building, part tea shop and part bakery, and the smells of freshly baked pastries had Jack’s mouth-watering despite the stress he was under. 

The place was open and airy, with floor-to-ceiling windows that let in the brilliant light of the planet’s sun, streaming over well-worn sofas and chairs, light-coloured laminate tables scattered across the dining area.  A long counter blocked off the far end of the room, where there was one line waiting to order, and a second to be served.  The majority of the people there were obviously students, although Jack thought several of the more conservatively dressed patrons most likely were instructors.  It had been over twelve hundred years since magic had come back into the universe, and these teachers would have been the descendants of Merlin’s original students. 

Jack was always amazed by what his grandson-by-mating had accomplished.  In many ways, it was so much more than what he and Ianto had done with Torchwood.  It was humbling.  It made him so very proud.

Sabrina was seated at a table near the back of the shop.  She resembled nothing more than yet one more student, with brightly coloured blouse and full skirt that, from her seated position, just swept the floor tiles, the toes of well-worn shoes peeking out from under the royal blue folds.  There was a rucksack leaning against her leg, with bright badges flashing in the sunlight that penetrated even as far back as she was sitting. 

A rather large mug of tea was on the table in front of her, along with a plate holding a half-eaten piece of cake.  Jack knew his daughter enough to be positive that it was a local variant of Earth carrot cake, her favourite.  She had a notebook out and looked as if she was sketching in it, and it was set down as soon as she noticed Jack and Arthur enter.  She frowned slightly, but stood and welcomed them both with a hug.  “You both could have been a little bit less conspicuous.”

Jack automatically tucked a lock of her short dark hair behind her ear, as he’d done ever since she’d been a child.  Her blue eyes sparkled as his hand lightly caressed her cheek as he moved back.  “How’s my girl?” he asked, not even bothering to respond to her commentary on his and Arthur’s appearances. He took one of the chairs that had been pulled up to the small table, slouching into the cloth-covered cushion of the seat.

She smiled.  “Fine, Dad.”  She sat back down, as Arthur got the last seat.  Then her expression turned back into a frown.  “I just wish we were seeing each other again under different circumstances.”

Being one of the best covert operatives that Torchwood had kept Sabrina very busy. Jack would not have hesitated to say that she was Phillip’s eyes in the field, and his son-by-mating usually gave her the more important missions.  Jack had to wonder what he’d pulled her out of to get her there to New Avalon, but he knew Phillip would have always put his family first before Torchwood business.

He and Ianto had once been the opposite, back when it had been the two of them and after Anwyn had been born.  There were times when Jack wished he could go back and change things, but they’d done the best they could, and they’d learned to do things differently using that experience as a template.  Anwyn had once told them that she wouldn’t have changed anything growing up, and a part of Jack really wanted to believe that.

“Have you learned anything, Aunt Sabrina?” Arthur asked. To anyone else he would have seemed calm, but Jack could hear the faint thread of desperation in his words. 

Sabrina sighed.  “I…I’m not sure.”

“Just tell us what you know,” Jack urged her gently.  Anything she’d discovered would have been new information, especially since it would have come after Phillip had vanished and hadn’t been in the files Jack had seen.  He’d only had time to send her on to New Avalon before leaving.

“It’s all rumour and hearsay,” she began.  “And I’ve discovered that students of any age are inveterate gossips, but this is what I’ve got so far: two standard weeks ago, Merlin apparently had a rather loud argument with one of his upper level students, an Earther named Lucy Cole, after which he began expulsion proceedings.  However, before he could complete the paperwork, she apologised and from what I’ve been able to gather from a glimpse into the school files, he withdrew the complaint.”

“What was the complaint about?” Jack wanted to know.  There was something very vaguely familiar with the name, ‘Lucy Cole’, but he couldn’t pinpoint where he’d heard it before.  Maybe Merlin had mentioned her, if she was one of his more powerful students. 

“Apparently, Merlin believed she might have been involved with dark magic.”

That made sense.  Merlin’s first life had been a time when dark magic has run a bit rampant, even to the point of convincing Uther Pendragon that _all_ magic was inherently bad.  He glanced at Arthur, and he could read his conclusions in his grandson’s face.  Arthur would be remembering those times; that life was the only one he’d lived, before this one, and it would have been fresh…or as fresh as they could be in a dragon that was about two thousand years old, and a reincarnated soul to boot.  When Arthur had become King, he’d done his best to negate that bad reputation, and for the most part had succeeded, until certain religions had gotten it into their collective heads that magic was a creation of some sort of devil. 

That thought process had led to all but one of the dragons being destroyed.  Jack was so very grateful that they now lived in a time when that was all but forgotten, except in history books. 

Now, everyone knew there was bad and good in everything, including magic. Jack did like to think they were all far more enlightened; that the human race had finally grown up.

“What happened to her?” Arthur asked, not needing to say who ‘her’ was.

“From what I got from her roommate, Lucy left the school about a week ago, after she’d gotten taken out of a lecture by Merlin himself,” she answered, sounding grave, “about the same time Merlin seems to have vanished.  Now, I don’t have any proof, of course…”

“But that’s a hell of a coincidence,” Jack finished.

“And I know how you feel about coincidences, Grandfather,” Arthur commented.

Jack had long ago thought there was no such thing, and he’d confided that belief into every single member of his family.

Jack let what Sabrina had reported settle into his brain.  If what he was thinking was true, then this Lucy person had had something to do with Merlin’s disappearance.  Why, he didn’t know; he was missing that vital piece of information.  “Can you get into Lucy Cole’s student records?” he asked.

“I already did,” she answered, looking just this side of smug. 

Arthur rolled his eyes.  “Of course you did, Aunt Sabrina.”

She took a bite of her cake, savouring it, and Jack shook his head.  She certainly had his dramatic flair…when she wanted to.  It wasn’t a good thing to have too much of in a full-time covert agent.  “Lucy Cole,” she began, sounding vaguely like her older sister, Rowena, in lecture mode, “born on London Island, Earth.  Her mother was actually with Torchwood Central there, and her father is Councillor Benjamin Cole, a member of the Imperial Council.”

Jack whistled.  Maybe that was where he’d heard of her; while he wasn’t as much into the political game as he used to be, he knew that Ianto did follow such things, and Jack had heard enough about the man to have gained a thorough dislike of him.  Councillor Cole had been behind several referenda that had proved to be problematic, and at least Her Imperial Majesty had gotten them struck down before they could be passed into law.  Jack had been personally offended by the one that called for the withdrawal of security forces from the frontier, where they were needed to protect innocent colonies on the fringes that might have otherwise been targeted by raiders.  While it had been a long time for him, the immortal was still very much aware that it had been lax security that had led to some of the worst of the privations on his own colony world.

He'd been so proud of Arthur when he’d arranged to have more patrols out that far.  Maker’s World might not have been the defenceless world that it had once been, but there were still so many others out there that might have been destroyed without that help.

“There were a few rumours going around that claimed that Lucy was here because of her father,” Sabrina went on.

“Merlin would never allow that sort of thing,” Arthur denied.

He was right.  Merlin didn’t give a damn about political power; it was all about the magic.  If a person didn’t have the magic, then they wouldn’t have been accepted into the school.  Merlin cared about the students, and not a one of them would leave this place without learning at least how to control their power, and not to be a danger to themselves or to others.  He took that responsibility very seriously, so he wasn’t one to curry favour of the elite just because they wanted their spawn to learn magic. 

No one _learned_ _magic_ ; it was a gift.  Not a lot of people understood that, until they met Merlin – or one of his trusted instructors – and had it explained to them.

“True,” Sabrina said, “and judging from her records Lucy is _very_ gifted.  She very quickly moved up in her classes, until she became one of Merlin’s prized pupils.  Apparently, she was set to begin studying with him and a small group of others that had shown they were extremely powerful, and needed that fine control that only Merlin could teach.”

That made sense.  Merlin was the most powerful wizard in the universe; added with his sensitivity to Time that he’d gained from his father, the Doctor, it put him on a level above a great many people.  To be taught by him, practically one-on-one, would have meant that this Lucy Cole would have been strong in magic and needed that little bit of extra help.

“Lucy’s been in the top or near top of every class she’s taken,” Sabrina continued.  “Even from the physical records – and discounting the gossip – Merlin had been more than a little disappointed that one of his prized pupils was talking about using dark magic.”

“I can understand that,” Arthur said.  “But I don’t know if he would have just cast her out like that.  Someone that powerful, wanting to use dark magic…he would have wanted to keep a close eye on her.”

“There’s nothing in the official records to show if he planned anything,” Sabrina admitted.  “But I’d have thought he’d keep that sort of information in his office…and that’s so heavily warded there’s no way I’d be able to get in.”

“You’re right,” Arthur admitted.  “Merlin wouldn’t keep anything like that out for anyone to read.  It would be where no one could get to it.”

“Then we have to get into his office,” Jack declared.  He turned to his grandson.  “Arthur, Merlin might have wanted to keep prying eyes out, but he would never have blocked your access to anything.  Think…what would he have done to make certain you could get in, where no one else could?”

Arthur considered.  Jack could practically see the gears turning as his grandson thought of anything that Merlin might have done to let him get into a magically warded office, and yet no one else would be able to use it.

Jack knew the moment that Arthur realised just what that might be.  He stood, determination writ all over his face.  “You’d best get the rest of your cake and tea to go, Aunt Sabrina.  We have a bit of breaking and entering to do.”

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

 

**_1 September 5192 (Earth Standard Date)_ **

**_Luna University_ **

**_The Moon_ **

 

“And remember your reading,” Ianto called out over the students bustling out of the lecture hall, on their way to their next classes.  “I expect you all to be at least through chapter five by the next class!”

Only a couple students acknowledged him, but Ianto knew they’d all heard.  He couldn’t help the smile on his face as he began to pack away his materials into the leather satchel Jack has given him on his first day, in order to clear the room for the next instructor to take over.

When Rowena had suggested a syllabus based on dragon history, Ianto hadn’t been at all certain it would be popular.  He’d given such lectures in the past, and they were always well attended, but an entire term? 

It had turned out that it had indeed been popular.  So popular, in fact, that Rowena – as History Chair for the University – was seriously considering adding another course to the curriculum, as well as one dealing with the Star Dragons as well.  She was certain such classes would cut down on most of the rampant rumours that swirled about their family, and Ianto couldn’t deny that.

There were times when he really wished Arthur had never started most of the original rumours regarding the family.  It had been bad enough when Anwyn had done it; his grandson had just made things worse.  Too many people saw the Star Dragons as miracle workers as it was, when that was actually farther from the truth as one could get. 

He knew that Rowena would want him to teach those courses as well.  Ianto wasn’t so certain he wanted to; it would take a lot of his time, and he’d need to discuss it with Jack first.  Still, it was a good idea.  Star Dragons had gained recognition as their own race within the Human Empire, with their own laws and traditions, and as patriarch it was Ianto’s duty to educate those who would either twist things or deliberately misunderstand.

He finished gathering up his things, and then left the large room, nodding to the instructor who would be holding the next class as he passed her on the way out.  The hallway beyond was filled with students and teachers as they made their way between lecture halls or offices, and the dragon dodged and wove his way amongst them, heading toward the tiny closet that Rowena had lent him as his own private office.

Luna University was one of the largest centres of learning in the Empire.  Built in the immense Oceanus Procellarum, in the northern hemisphere of Earth’s Moon, it was once the location of one of the first domes on the lunar surface, until the larger cities were built on the Mare Insularum and the Mare Imbrium, leaving the area unpopulated until the then-Emperor chartered the University in the 27th century.  Ianto could remember when construction had begun, and it still amazed him just how much that original school had grown up over the centuries.

His office was on the sixth floor of the History building.  It was miniscule, as befitting a temporary instructor, and Rowena kept trying to tempt him into tenure by offering him a larger one.  While she did have a point that there wasn’t enough room in the place to swing a cat, Ianto was actually fairly content to use the cramped quarters for the time being.  If he decided to cave under her heavy-handed hints and stay on, then he’d think about something larger.  Until then, he’d stay where he was. 

The main advantage of the office was the large window that looked out onto one of the many quads that made up the History sector of the campus.  Artificial lighting glittering down from the girders that made up the struts of the atmospheric dome for this section of the University in a wavelength that encouraged both the trees and grass that had been transplanted from various planets to grow. Natural sunlight did stream in from the clear panes of the dome, but it was partially blocked out by the radiation shielding that kept out the harshest glare of Earth’s primary.

From where Ianto’s office was, he couldn’t see the blue marble that was the Earth, but he could feel it deep within his bones, and the dragon wondered why it was so apparent now, when he’d lived on Hubworld for six hundred years before his retirement from Torchwood without seeming to notice.

Maybe he had.  Maybe he was just in denial.

Ianto squeezed between the well-stocked bookcase and the desk, settling himself in the not-too-comfortable chair that had been wedged in between the desk and the window.  He set his satchel down on the nearly clean blotter, sighing as he tried to relax.  He turned on his computer, and while he waited for it to boot up he took his lesson plans out of the satchel, wanting to go over them once more before his next class tomorrow. 

He was interrupted by a soft knock on his door.  He looked up, smiling at his son-by-mating, Henry Morgan, as the magical immortal stood there, one shoulder leaning against the jamb, wearing his slightly anachronistic clothing paired with a moss coloured scarf that was tucked into the front of the dark blue jacket he had on. 

He did wonder what it was about immortality in humans that had them staying with one sort of style of clothing for most of their lives, because Jack was the exact same way.  Phillip less so, but he’d certainly kept his fondness for expensive suits when working, even if they all had the Torchwood logo on them somewhere.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?” he asked, leaning back as much as he could, resting his hand on the top of his files.

“Rowena has sent me to come and fetch you,” Henry answered, his old British accent still noticeable in the Galactic Standard he now spoke.  “It’s lunchtime, and she says you’ll forget to eat if someone doesn’t poke you.”  He shrugged, using the shoulder that wasn’t propping up the door jamb, a slight smirk on his handsome features.  “Of course, I know that’s a lie, so it’s most likely just Rowena wanting you to join us, and using an excuse so flimsy it could be knocked over with a feather in order to convince you.”

Ianto laughed.  He genuinely liked Henry, and there were many times he wished he’d met the immortal much earlier than he had; he would have certainly poached him for Torchwood back in the day.  Henry was one of those sorts who truly was a Jack of Many Trades: he’d been a medical doctor when he’d first discovered his immortality, back in the 1700’s, and had held so many different jobs in the meantime, becoming a master at many of them.  He’d been a gravedigger, a coroner, a police officer, even a pilot of a space-going cruise ship…and now he was a Professor of Ancient Languages, having become proficient in so many of them. 

It did make Ianto wonder just how many immortals there were out there, and he and Jack had never known about them.  Although, they both thought that Henry’s way of coming back to life was hilarious.

The dragon chuckled.  “She has you trained well.”

“Your daughter is frightening,” Henry countered.  “And our children are learning her tricks.  I soon won’t stand a chance against the lot of them.”

Rowena and Henry had adopted two of the children from the eggs that River had found and brought home, nearly eighty years ago.  It had seemed like an impossible task, to raise all of those poor children, but River had included a Time Lord stasis vault, and they now had all the time in the universe in which to bring those children back into the world.

Several members of their family had decided it was their turn to raise children, and since Henry had been positive that he and Rowena would never have children of their own – although Rowena was positive it would happen someday; after all, her very male father had carried both her and her twin – they’d taken two of the eggs, revealing the pair they called their twins, Jocelyn and Abraham.  Jocelyn was a studious young dragon, her scales blue and red, and Abraham was a light brown and tan, and more like his Granddad had been in his youth: brash and flirty, and Ianto often teased Jack that Abraham must have been his biological son, even though that would have been impossible. 

Jack accepted the teasing with good grace and the satisfied leer of a job of corruption well done.

While Jack might have mellowed bit over the centuries, he was still a borderline egomaniac with the sex drive of an Earth rabbit, and could flirt with anyone.  Ianto wouldn’t have him any other way.

“And you love it.”

The smile Ianto got from the man was downright sappy.  “Yes, I rather think I do.”

He knew he wasn’t going to win against the united front of his daughter and her smitten mate, so he capitulated and crawled back out from behind his desk.  “Well, I am a bit hungry.”  He was, now that Henry had mentioned lunch.  “It’s just too bad there’s such a lack of virgins this century.”

Henry snorted.  “One of these days, we’re all going to find a virgin and offer them up as a sacrifice, and then see what you do.”

“Oh, believe me, it’s been done,” Ianto laughed.  Leaving his papers on his desk, he ushered the British immortal out of the office, locking the door behind them.  “Let me tell you about the time, back in Old Cardiff, with our first Torchwood team…”

He regaled Henry with the story of how Owen, Rhys, and Toshiko had gotten together and had presented him with a young woman, tied to a makeshift altar, and offered her up as a virgin sacrifice to the mighty dragon.  He had Henry cackling as they made their way out of the building and down into the quad, heading toward the café that Ianto knew was Rowena’s favourite. 

It wasn’t one of Pryce’s tea shops thought.  It surprised Ianto how much those were avoided when he was with any member of their family. Yes, he’d been horrified when one of his children hadn’t liked coffee, and had gone to the extreme of opening a chain of tea shops, but he was honestly proud of Pryce for making her own way, and being successful at it.  Besides, they had other beverages besides tea, and their selection of scones was quite impressive.

Still, the café that Rowena always met them at was quite nice.  They had a decent selection of good yet inexpensive meals aimed at the ‘broke University’ student, and coffee that wasn’t half bad.  Ianto quite enjoyed their cheese and meat pasta, and would often get two orders.  After all, as a dragon his metabolism and inner flame needed the fuel, and he had quite a healthy appetite.

Rowena was waiting for them when they entered the café.  It wasn’t quite crowded, it being a little past the traditional lunch time, but it was busy enough that Ianto was glad his daughter had gotten them a table.

She got up and hugged him; he returned it gladly.  “I _did_ just see you this morning,” he quipped as they pulled apart.

Rowena rolled her eyes at him as they took the other chairs at the table.  “I can’t hug my Tad when I see him?”

The dragon laughed.  “Just don’t tell your Dad about it.  He’ll get jealous that I’m receiving all the love, as it were.”

“Oh Goddess,” she chuckled, “if only you were wrong…”

Ianto knew his mate, after all.  Jack might pretend he never did jealousy but Ianto knew different.  And him seeing one of their children and getting hugs on a daily basis was something that would definitely work to that goal.

The three of them each perused a menu, although Ianto knew what he was going to get.  They decided on a couple of appetisers before the wait-being came to take their orders; like any other sort of University business nearly everyone who worked there as wait staff were students trying to make money to cover their courses.  Ianto would make certain there was a large enough tip when they left.

They chatted easily as they waited for their food.  Ianto, while being very much a creature of Earth, always enjoyed his times offworld.  That sense of being somewhere new, living a new life and being a different person had always been exciting for him.  He recalled, when he was a child, of not wanting to ever leave home; that had changed, that first trip away from Ddraig Llyn, back with his father when they’d gone together to meet with Kilgarrah at Camelot. 

He’d first met Merlin and Arthur on that journey.  Sometimes it was amazing what destiny brought his way.

Of course, after his family had been killed Ianto had become a recluse in his own valley, mourning what he’d lost, and not wanting to risk himself in the lands beyond.  Years later, once he’d healed in both body and soul, he’d taken trips away from Ddraig Llyn, when rumours of dragons would reach him, but those rumours, each and every one of them, had proved false.

Now he understood why, thanks to a certain time-travelling archaeologist who just happened to have been married to the ultimate meddler.

The cheese and pasta was just as good as Ianto remembered.  As he ate, he laughed at Rowena’s description of Abraham’s latest shenanigans and how he’d tried to rope his sister into his scheme to hook up with two of his classmates.  Jocelyn’s horror at having to deal with her brother’s ‘farce of a love life’ almost had him falling out of his chair.

“If he doesn’t calm it down,” Henry complained, “he’s going to get some girl or boy pregnant.”

“At least he can’t get _himself_ pregnant,” Rowena pointed out.

“This is true,” her mate agreed, taking a bite of what the future called shepherd’s pie, which really wasn’t all that much like it as far as Ianto could recall.

“Hello, Ancient One.”

That unexpected voice sent a shiver down Ianto’s spine. 

 

 


	8. Chapter 8

 

**_1 September 5192 (Earth Standard Date)_ **

**_Luna University_ **

**_The Moon_ **

 

The dragon dropped his fork, turning in the direction of those words.

She still looked like a child, in clothes that had been old-fashioned back in the twenty-first century, the last time he’d seen her.  Her dark eyes were heavy with age and a knowledge so terrible it made the smile she gave him seem bleak.  No one seemed to be paying her any sort of attention at all, no matter how out of place she was in the well-lit café.

Ianto had the sudden impulse to hiss at her, but he managed to pull it back before he could do it.  This being brought only sorrow, and he wanted nothing to do with her.  “What do you want?” he demanded, his appetite gone.

“Tad,” Rowena said warily, “you know this…” she frowned, her eyes dropping into their dragon aspect and then back to human so fast it was almost unnoticeable.  “Creature?”

Henry was glancing back and forth between the two of them, curiosity written all over his face.  Ianto could tell he wanted to ask the same thing, but he was being silent.  That was Henry…he always waited to be given the answers before he would draw his own conclusions, and wouldn’t repeat the question his mate had just asked because it was redundant.

Ianto knew what he saw: a child, perhaps twelve, in something that would not have looked out of place in an historical reinactment.  She was anything but, and he was explaining before he had a chance to keep anything to himself.

“There are powers in this universe…powers that are far older than life itself.  I don’t know what her race is called, only that I’ve had dealings with her before.”  Ianto glared at her.  “I’m not so sure it would have been best if you _hadn’t_ told my fortune, although I do have to thank you for sending Jack in my direction, all those years ago.”

The girl inclined her head, respect and mockery in equal measure in the gesture.  “I did tell you we would meet again,” she reminded him.

“You did.  However, it’s been so long ago now I’d almost forgotten.”  It was more he’d put it out of his head, really.  Ianto didn’t want to have anything to do with her, not after that first time.

The smile that graced her features was close to ghastly.  “I would not have come now, but something is happening, Ancient One.  And you must be prepared.”

With that, she pushed their plates aside, and her cards appeared from nowhere.  With a flourish, she turned over the top card, laying it on the table. 

It was of a man in a white robe, with a red cloak over it, an infinity sign above his head.  While the card itself was faded with great age, Ianto recognised the man immediately.

Merlin.

Beside him, Rowena gasped.  Henry was frowning, but Ianto could tell he also knew who that card was supposed to represent as well.

A second card joined it.

Ianto knew this card as well, but it was because he’d gotten it in a reading before: a man in a rich looking robe, face obscured by a hood.  Only, where the robe had once been blue, this time it was a deep purple. 

It was a representation of the Doctor. 

The time he’s seen it, it had been in the reading that claimed that Jack would break his heart four times.  It hadn’t exactly turned out that way, but the Doctor had certainly been a part of events that had, indeed, broken his heart.

The third card: a man, dressed and hooded in black, one hand upraised with an icicle held in his fist as if it were some sort of dagger.  There was only one person Ianto knew who could control ice…Phillip.  It had to be him.

The fourth was the card that had always represented Jack: the knight, in armour, with a sword in his hand, tip planted into the ground.  It was frightening just how closely that card resembled his mate, and Ianto hated it with a passion.

Rowena made a noise that was more like a growl this time, and he couldn’t blame her for it.

The fifth: a king, with a fine crown, on a white horse and holding an upright sword.  He was dressed all in red, and once again the dragon was convinced he knew who this was: Arthur.  He was the only king Ianto knew of, he was a red dragon, and the sword would have to have been Excalibur.

The sixth: a tree, looking as if it had once been struck by lightning.

The seventh: a multi-headed serpent.

The eighth: a woman in white seated on a throne, wearing a dull crown over curly hair, holding a rod in each hand, looking as if she was trying to fit them together.

The ninth:  A woman wearing what looked like pure shadow, holding an open book, blonde hair draped across her face and obscuring it, except for laughing, dark eyes.

“My card didn’t come up,” he said, trying to remain calm, but he was certain he’d failed.

With that same, terrible, smile, the girl turned the next card over.

It was the green dragon.

The card Ianto knew was meant to be him.

“A great danger is coming,” the being said, her voice in a trance-like sing-song.  “Already events are in motion, and it may be too late to stop them.”

“You couldn’t come to me before things could get out of hand, if that’s true?” he demanded. 

“There is a time and a place, Ancient One, and you know that.”

He did.  That was the problem. And the time and the place was usually not the time he wanted it to be.

“Wait,” Henry interjected.  “Are we going to trust a tarot card reading?” He didn’t sound overly incredulous, only curious, as if wanting to be certain that they were actually taking this course of action and relying on what might have been perceived as superstition.

“She only uses the cards for effect,” Ianto replied sarcastically.  “It makes her prophecies that much more dramatic.  Like they really _need_ to be.”

That made the girl laugh, and the dragon wanted to cringe away from the sound.  “If that is what you want to believe.”

“So, you’re coming to warn Tad now,” Rowena put them back on track.  She was obviously disturbed by the whole thing, and Ianto couldn’t blame her.  He felt the exact same way.

The being nodded.  “There may yet be time to change the reading.”  Her smile returned, but this one was almost sweet.  “And I bring someone who might be able to aid you in this.”

She turned back toward the door.  Ianto followed her gaze, and he saw when the woman entered the café.

She was dressed in an ankle-length blue dress, and matching slippers.  A shawl in a paler blue was draped across her shoulders, held there with a gold brooch.  She moved gracefully as she made her way around the tables toward them.

Her skin had an olive cast to it.  Long black hair was plaited over her left shoulder.  Her eyes were equally dark, and there was an uncertain expression in them as she approached.

It took him a second to realise that he knew her.  It took another five for the information to slot into place.

Ianto stood up so quickly his chair scraped back, making a terrible racket as the legs dragged across the floor and drawing attention to himself.

He didn’t care.

He simply stared at the woman, his heart pounding furiously as he suddenly found it difficult to breathe.

“Suzie?” Ianto gasped. 

 

 


	9. Chapter 9

 

**_29 August 5192 (Earth Standard Date)_ **

**_The Library_ **

**_(Four Standard Days Previously)_ **

****

The Doctor had the TARDIS materialise in the same place she had, all those years ago.

He really didn’t want to do this.  There was a reason he didn’t revisit places unless he had to, but only this one was because he’d lost a wife to it.  He’d been married many times before, and had lost family, but then he couldn’t go back to Gallifrey any longer, either, even if he chose to. 

This planet, though…the Doctor knew it was different this time because of the circumstances.  At the time, he hadn’t known what River would come to mean to him.  That she would grow so close to him that, one day, he would marry her and she would have his only living son. 

Well, the married part he’d guessed.  River had known his true name, and there was only one reason he would give that to anyone. 

When he met her again, in this regeneration, the Doctor hadn’t been exactly pleasant to her when he’d figured out that they weren’t that close yet.  Then, there’d been the part where she’d been in prison for supposedly killing someone important…and it had been him that she’d been found guilty of murdering, and even though she’d known the truth she’d let them bundle her off to the Stormcage without a single argument.

She could break out whenever she wished, but that was beside the point.

River had finally been set free – because no one could remember the Doctor and why she’d been jailed in the first place, which was an entirely different adventure, thank you very much! – but it had eventually led her to the Library, where she’d given her life to save the people in the Data Core, including his then-companion, Donna Noble.

There were times when the Doctor really missed Donna.  She would have kicked him in the backside and told him to quit moping.

The clear chime of the landing sounded through the console room.  He took a deep breath, readying himself for what was about to happen.  “We’ve arrived.”

Phillip nodded.  He was standing on the opposite side of the console, and the Doctor could just make him out through the time rotor.  “Let’s hope we’re not too late.”

The Doctor hoped that as well.  “Did you have any luck tracking any sort of life signs beyond the Vashta Nerada?”

“No. It was simple to keep track of the Vashta Nerada because there were just so many of them.  But I do have a detector, so hopefully that will show something up before we have to search the entire planet.”

“I landed us in an area that’s now Vashta Nerada free,” the Doctor said.  “But it wouldn’t hurt to keep an eye out.  They’ll be out for blood because of what happened.”

“And the last thing I want to do is test my immortality against a swarm of carnivorous dust mites.”  It was said in a tone so dry the Doctor wondered why he wasn’t suddenly parched. 

“Not a good idea, no.”

Torchwood’s Director had the rucksack perched up on the side of the console, and was rooting around inside.  He pulled out a short-barrelled torch, handing it over.  The Doctor accepted it, recognising state of the art arc reactor technology.  This torch wouldn’t go out unless it was broken beyond repair.  It was really decent kit.

Phillip then produced a gun.

Something of the Doctor’s distaste must have shown on his face, because the immortal said, “It’s a stun gun.  I want to take whoever’s responsible for this alive if possible.  They need to be turned over to the Adjudicator’s Guild for trial.”

Okay, he could go along with that.

The stun gun got tucked into Phillip’s belt at the small of his back.  Next came out a compact, hand-held device, which the Doctor immediately identified as a portable scanner.  That would certainly help keep them away from any sort of rampaging Vashta Nerada as well as the ones who’d set off the magical bomb that had whipped said Vashta Nerada into a frenzy. 

Then he had an idea.

“Phillip, your cold powers might also be a deterrent against the Vashta Nerada…”  He hated to ask, being well aware of the fact that the immortal hadn’t been all at comfortable with his magic for a very long time, and that it had been fairly recently that he’d come to grips with it. 

Phillip considered, but didn’t seem repulsed by the idea.  “I can create a form of cold fire that will not only lower the temperature in our general vicinity, but will also be a strong enough light to use to navigate around with.  The cold won’t bother you, then?”

“No, I can take quite a lot of cold before I start to get uncomfortable.”  He didn’t mention that time in Antarctica, or the Ood Homeworld.  Now, _that_ had been cold. 

He made to hand the torch back, but Philip shook his head.  “You might need that if something happens to my magic.  I’m going to take one along with us as well, just in case.  I’ll have it in my bag.”  He zipped up the rucksack and slung it back over his shoulder. 

The Doctor slipped the torch into his pocket, accepting that Phillip was correct.  He didn’t want to think that something would happen to either of them, but they were heading into a situation where someone – or a group of someones – had already committed near-genocide against an alien race that wasn’t doing them any harm.  No matter what they’d thought was there at the Library, murdering all of those Vashta Nerada hadn’t been worth it.

It also felt like a desecration. 

When they’d all been forced out of the Library by the time limit imposed upon them by the Vashta Nerada, no one had thought to collect the bodies of the dead, as the living took precedence.  Down in the core, River was still in that chair where she’d died, and the Doctor very much doubted that the Vashta Nerada had left her alone.  He didn’t want to go down there to check, either.

He preferred to remember River as she had been: a vivacious, flirty sociopath who, despite her thieving proclivities, had still been one of the best people he’d ever known. He didn’t want her resting place disturbed.

The Doctor wasn’t superstitious at all, but he couldn’t help the shiver down his spine when he and Phillip stepped out of the TARDIS and into the Library proper.

The sun was up, but the large reading room they’d materialised within was gloomy, shadows peering around the corners and stretching across the wooden flooring.  The air was too still, feeling uncirculated, as if the atmospheric pumps had gone down in the years since the last time he’d been there.  Dust motes danced in the streams of light from the high windows, and for a second the Doctor was worried that they would be facing the Vashta Nerada immediately, despite knowing that they’d all been killed in this area of the Library. 

A blue-white light blossomed into existence, and the Doctor looked up; above his head, a ball of fire floated, letting off a chill that soaked through his jacket and made his skin feel slightly clammy.  It wasn’t bothersome, really, and he did think that it would fend off any random Vashta Nerada they were bound to run into.  There was a reason the Vashta Nerada liked floating amid sunbeams while resting, even if they were far more active and deadly in the shadows.

Phillip stood beside him, his scanner out.  He panned it around the room, announcing, “I’m not reading anything here.”

“Of course not,” the Doctor said smugly. “I can pilot just fine, thanks.”

The immortal looked up from his scanner, raising a single, accusatory eyebrow in his direction.  He didn’t have to say a single word; the Doctor could interpret that gesture just fine.

“Oi!” he exclaimed.  “I do know how to fly the TARDIS, thank you very much!”

“I’m sure,” was the deadpan comment.

Alright, the Doctor knew there were few times – well, maybe a lot of times – that he didn’t end up where he’d planned to.  But he knew the TARDIS always got him where he _needed_ to be, and that was the important thing, wasn’t it? 

He reached back and gave the TARDIS a light pat.  Her laughter fluttered against his mind, and not for the first time he wished that she could talk to him like she’d once been able to.  Still, feeling her there, knowing she loved him, was enough. 

Jack and Ianto might have been mates for eternity, but the TARDIS was the Doctor’s eternal companion.  He’d nearly lost her so many times, but they always made it through…together.

There was a faint beeping, and he glanced over at Phillip, who was reading the tiny screen on his detector.  “I’m getting a couple of faint life signs, at the edge of this thing’s range.”  He pointed toward the left.  “That way.”

“Then let’s see who’s behind all this and get my son back, shall we?”

Phillip nodded, looking grim.  The Doctor could relate, because if these people had hurt Merlin he wasn’t going to guarantee them getting to trial in pristine condition.

Trial, yes.  Phillip had _that_ right. 

As they made their way deeper into the silent Library, the Doctor couldn’t help but feel just how _wrong_ their surroundings were.  There should be people here: students, and academics; anyone seeking out the knowledge that was in the shelves around them.  Certainly, anyone could discover what was in the books that were now gathering dust on any number of worlds, but not all in one place, like this. 

Still, the Library had been doomed even before it had been completed.  By unintentionally using the trees that the Vashta Nerada had called their homes to make the books here, the Lux family had begun the events that had led to so much death and the loss of so much concentrated knowledge. 

He couldn’t fault them for the idea, though.  The Doctor still wasn’t sure about putting the mind of a dying child into the central Data Core, but the Library itself had been a triumph for the time that it had been opened to anyone in the Empire.  The Nodes were a bit creepy, though…he wondered if the one that resembled Donna was still active. 

He hoped not.

Yes, this place was wrong now.  So very wrong.

He’d had an education on just what the word had meant, and by his own son, when he’d once asked him why he didn’t feel just how wrong Jack was.  Merlin had been surprised by the question, before saying that Jack wasn’t wrong, despite being a fixed point.  He’d explained about how he saw Jack:  like a stone in the middle of a great river, the river – being Time itself – flowing around him as he simply stood in the centre of it.  Merlin had pointed out that, just because the rock was partially blocking the flow didn’t mean the rock didn’t belong there, or that the river didn’t affect the rock at all.  Indeed, Time was slowly weathering Jack as water did that rock, until one day it would wear him away until nothing was left. 

It had led to the Doctor seeing Jack in a new light, and realising that Merlin was totally spot on.

One day, Jack would die.  The Doctor knew that would be billions of years in the future and, on that day, his mate would die with him.  He didn’t know when, or how, but it would happen, and then the flow of Time would be the steady river it had once been.  Until then, though, Jack would affect things in ways no one could foresee.  He’d already done it, with Torchwood and the family he’d created. 

It had also led him to realise that Jack had always been meant to exist as an immortal.  That he wasn’t unnatural at all, as his last regeneration had claimed.  So many of the universe’s events sat squarely on his and his family’s shoulders, that the only choice it had had was to create him in order to keep from fading into heat death that much faster.  Jack was needed; he truly was the stone that kept events anchored, that made certain things possible where they wouldn’t have been without an impossible immortal pushing them along. 

The Doctor shook himself out of his thoughts.  There was a time and a place, and walking through a deserted Library with the possibility of being eaten by voracious Vashta Nerada wasn’t it. 

The only sounds were their footsteps and the soft beeping of the detector that Phillip was using to guide them along.  They passed the shop that the Doctor remembered so well, the glass of the window frosted with dust and neglect.  He’d joked about the place needing a shop at the time, and Donna had rolled her eyes at him in that way she had. 

His memories of the Library were almost as fixed a point as Jack Harkness was.

The chill of Phillip’s cold fire was getting to him in a way that coldness just didn’t do, and it took the Doctor a moment to figure out that it wasn’t just that affecting him; it was the very atmosphere of the Library itself, and he silently told himself to suck it up and get on with things.  He couldn’t allow it to distract him, not if his son was in danger somewhere. 

They were on the steps leading down into the immense gallery when he saw it.

The Doctor’s steps stuttered, and he almost took a header down the rest of the way.  In the brilliant cold light of his companion’s magic he could just make it out: a small, blue rectangle that seemed free of the interminable dust that layered almost everything else, and it called to him like a siren’s song.

Phillip’s cool hand was on his elbow, steadying him.  “Are you alright?” he asked, his concerned words swallowed by the gallery.

Steadying himself with the help of his friend – and yes, while he might not have known Phillip as well as he could have, he did consider the immortal a friend – he took the steps down toward that single object he’d left there, centuries ago in his timeline but about ninety years linearly.  He could read it now, having lived its contents, and suddenly the Time Lord wanted it more than anything, not for himself…but for the son he’d unintentionally abandoned because he’d favoured his mother so closely that the Doctor sometimes couldn’t stand to see him.

That had been a mistake in more ways than one.  He should have taken comfort in his son, cherishing his lost wife in him instead of pushing him away.  Well, he was going to change that, as soon as he got Merlin out of the mess it seemed he’d gotten himself into.

He didn’t even register his hand shaking when he picked up the worn leather diary from where he’d placed it.

“This was hers,” he answered quietly, not even needing to say her name because he just knew that Phillip would understand.  “I left it here, because at the time I didn’t know her, and didn’t want to read anything that might change my personal timeline.”

Phillip didn’t say anything.  For one of the most dangerous men in the universe, he could certainly be sympathetic.

The Doctor slipped the diary into his pocket.  _For Merlin_ , he told himself.  Their son deserved to know more about his mother.

He glanced upward, toward the dome in the ceiling that was letting in the sunlight.  Glittering specks danced within the streams, and the Doctor had to wonder if it was the regrouping Vashta Nerada or if it was something as simple as dust.

He couldn’t think like that. 

Together, they continued on.

 

 

 


	10. Chapter 10

 

**_29 August 5192 (Earth Standard Date)_ **

**_The Library_ **

**_(Four Standard Days Previously)_ **

 

The signal led deeper into the Library.  They left the sun behind, until the only light pushing the shadows aside was the magical one floating above their heads.  This place wasn’t _right_ , and yet they kept following the detector down and down.  Past shelves of books that no one had touched in at least a century; desks where students and academicians had once sat, taking in the simple joy of reading what those books held.

Had Merlin ever come here, at the height of the Library’s prestige, before the Vashta Nerada had completely hatched from between the pressed pages of the books that had been so lovingly copied and preserved?  Had his hands touched any of the books or papers that were lying about, waiting for time to slowly wear them into shades of the very knowledge they’d once contained? 

This place had been a marvel and an act of terrible hubris.  The Lux family had taken it upon themselves to build up this planet, to collect all of this art and knowledge and history into one location for the betterment of everyone in the Empire and its allies.  It might have once been a treasure to the universe.

Now, it was dead.

The only living things there were the microscopic predators that the Luxes themselves had put there, unknowingly.  They hadn’t meant to bring the Vashta Nerada there in such quantities, but they had. 

The outcome could have been so much worse, although one death had been one too many. 

And yet, technically, there were the ghosts in the machine, the ones that had survived on within the Data Core.  They were not alive, and yet not dead.  The Doctor had put one of them there himself, and he couldn’t bring himself to regret a single thing for very long.

River was dead, and yet there was a part of her alive, just as immortal as the machine that contained her.

They were now in a section of the Library that the Doctor hadn’t been to during his last trip there.  The air around them was stagnant, the circulators having long gone out.  The cold light threw the shelves into even sharper relief, and the Doctor didn’t think it was his imagination when the shadows beyond looked as if they were moving on their own, despite the fact that the life sign detector wasn’t showing that the Vashta Nerada were even in this area at all.

A hand on his forearm had him pulled to a halt.  The Time Lord looked at his companion, who had the device turned off and was pointing forward.  The Doctor let his eyes follow in the direction Phillip’s finger indicated, and he thought he could just make out the faint glimmer of a light coming from underneath a door several meters ahead.

He once again glanced at Phillip; the immortal nodded, and he slid the rucksack off, putting the scanner inside it, and then pulling the stun gun out of his belt. 

Hiking the rucksack back across his shoulder, the Director of Torchwood stepped forward.  The Doctor followed, wondering what sort of plan they had because, honestly, if it was up to him they’d simply burst into the room and gain the element of surprise.  It would allow Phillip to take them out with his stun gun, and then maybe they could find out what had happened to Merlin.

Phillip held up a hand, showing two fingers; the Doctor interpreted that to mean that the detector had registered two life forms within that room.  He nodded in acknowledgement, and in step they continued toward the door. 

Was one of those life forms Merlin?  Was he about to find the son who’d gone missing? The Doctor didn’t want to even _consider_ that Merlin was there of his own free will.  There really was no reason for him to be, despite the fact that his mother had died there.  No, if it were Merlin he would have been down in the Data Core, where River’s body would have remained all these years…if it was even still there.  The Vashta Nerada would have…well, he didn’t want to think about that.  And yet, there wasn’t anything left within it, and the insatiable little eaters wouldn’t have let good meat go to waste…no, he wasn’t going to think about that, either.

The Doctor could be horribly pragmatic, but there had to be a line drawn somewhere.

He really was quite irritated at his Tenth self for a lot of things, but leaving River’s body behind was quite possibly the biggest sin his former regeneration had committed.  Intellectually, he knew there hadn’t been much of a choice; the Vashta Nerada had given them a time limit, and if they’d hoped to get everyone out of the Library before that had ended it had to have been all hands on deck.  Still, he’d tried to help Donna find the young man she’d met in the Core, even though that had been a failure.  Certainly, he could have done something more than to leave his wife – and Ten had known, because River had been forced to reveal that she’d known his true name in order to get him to cooperate.  

When all of the personal timelines had finally converged, Merlin hadn’t even had a grave to grieve over. 

Well, there wasn’t anything he could do about that now, and he really needed to get his head in the game.  They were at the door now, a large, wooden, ornately carved thing with a small golden plaque beside it claiming that it was Secure Archive 109.  The Doctor frowned; secure for what?  He hadn’t heard of anything here that needed to be held secure, although that did make a bit of sense.  There were works that would have been kept here that would have been considered illegal on some worlds, and they would have been kept behind lock and key to avoid any sort of diplomatic or religious repercussions.

And, this door’s lock had been broken beyond repair.

He couldn’t hear anything going on within, but the Doctor suspected that was more the case of good soundproofing than the intruders sitting down quietly and reading.  He looked over at Phillip, who had his back to the wall on the other side of the door, his pale eyes intent as he held the stun gun at the ready.  His free hand was at chest-height, and a soft, blue glow surrounded his fingers; he was calling upon his ice magic, preparing it for whatever they’d find once that door was opened.

Suddenly the Doctor had a serious doubt that Phillip’s magic could cope with what was on the other side of that door.  The immortal had claimed that the burst that had destroyed a large part of the Vashta Nerada had been on par with what Merlin could conjure up, and Merlin truly was the most powerful wizard in the universe.  Compared to that, Phillip’s ice magic would have been like…well, like throwing snowballs at the heart of a blizzard.  Fairly ineffectual, in point of fact.

The Time Lord realised that Phillip was well aware of that fact.  But Phillip would still do what he had to do in order to bring whoever had set that burst off to justice.  The Doctor also figured out that Phillip would have been quite ready to declare a Vow of Vengeance against their unknown killers if they’d done something to seriously hurt Merlin.

Phillip wasn’t even related to Merlin by blood, but he was _family_.  And, if the Doctor had learned one thing about the Jones clan, was that they protected their family in whatever ways they could, and would damage – or even kill – if one of them had been injured or murdered.

He was forcibly reminded of that moment on the bridge of the _Valiant_ , so many centuries ago.  Of Ianto Jones, declaring vengeance on the Master for what he’d done to Jack, and that was even before they were even officially mated. 

The Doctor often wished that he’d been on good terms with them both at the time, so he might have been invited to their mating ceremony.  He mourned not being a part of that day.

Every member of the Jones clan was fiercely loyal to each other, and that included those who had mated into their midst.  Phillip might have only brought a stun gun with him, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t rain vengeance down on anyone who’d done anything to a member of his family.

And the ones behind that door might very well have killed Merlin, or done something to him so terrible that he’d had no choice but to set off that magical bomb.  The Doctor didn’t want to even consider that his son was dead, not before he at least tried to make up to him for practically abandoning him, even if it had been with people he trusted to look after his only living child.

Phillip’s eyes flickered down toward the door knob, and the Doctor got the hint.  He rested his hand on the cool metal, moving his lips in an exaggerated count, so they would be able to move in concert.

The Doctor hit one.

He threw the door open, revealing a largish room lit by various electrical torches spaced about the place, resting on dusty tables and on a mantel that spanned an enormous fireplace along one section of wall.  In one corner, a Node was turned away, its featureless back slightly bent, as if someone had tried to knock it over.  Chairs were spaced around the room, and instead of bookcases there were glassed-in displays, all of them still, surprisingly, intact.

It looked as if someone had attempted to get into one of them, but what had first resembled glass appeared to be well-nigh unbreakable.  Which made sense, in a Secure Archive. 

There were two people in the room as well.

A blonde woman dressed in a red jumpsuit, and a dark-haired man in a blue, almost stylised uniform, were by the display, and it was apparent they were the ones trying to get into it.  From what the Doctor could tell there were several mini-explosive tabs attached to the clear material, and the man held a control in his hand. 

They had both turned when the Doctor and Phillip had burst in, and neither of them looked particularly surprised to see either of them.

The woman smiled.  It was a sharp thing, as if it could cut deep into the Doctor’s soul.  His left heart decided to skip a beat, because he was certain he recognised her.

The man with her didn’t smile.  Instead, he shook his head, smirking, as his thumb stroked the detonator in his hand.  “See?” he said, his accent flat against the Galactic Standard he spoke.

“You were right,” the woman purred.  Her own accent was somewhere around New British; very posh, as if she was used to getting what she wanted.

“You are both under arrest,” Phillip snapped.  “The charges are: trespassing into Torchwood’s jurisdiction; committing an act of near-genocide of a sentient race; and I’m fairly certain I can add other offences into that as well.”

To anyone else, he would have sounded completely in control of the situation, but there was a note of uncertainty in his voice that the Doctor couldn’t miss.  It was as if there was something about the situation he recognised, but was unsure just why or how.

The problem was, the Doctor was feeling the same thing.  It was as if he should know these people…well, the woman at least.  She was familiar, and he didn’t know where he’d seen her before.

Before he could even react to that, something struck him, hard, in the back, tossing him forward onto the musty-smelling carpet.  He tried to catch himself by his hands, but the agony along his spine overrode his instinctive action and he ended up face-first in the carpet’s knap, a nose-full of dust and who knew what else making him want to sneeze. 

Every muscle in his body was on fire.  The Doctor couldn’t help the involuntary jerking of his muscles, and without seeing he just knew that Phillip had suffered the same fate. 

It had to have been some sort of powerful electrical shock, judging from the contraction of his body and the way his hearts suddenly felt heavy and sluggish in his chest.

Blackness nibbled at his vision, and the Doctor had no choice but to let it overwhelm him.

The last thing he saw was a pair of red shoes by his face.  He heard mocking laughter, and then nothing more.

 

 


	11. Chapter 11

 

**_1 September 5192 (Earth Standard Date)_ **

**_New Avalon_ **

****

Merlin actually had two offices.

One was his public office. 

It was where he met with the business people and politicians who thought they held the future of the school in their hands, and left with their credit accounts just that much lighter after being convinced it had been their idea to donate their monies for the programmes Merlin wanted to either start or to keep running.  Where anxious parents needed to have their nerves soothed, and to be convinced that they were doing the right thing in letting their children study with the accredited magic users Merlin had hand-picked to teach the up-and-coming generations.  It was where the very public face of the academy was shown to the outside universe.

Then there was Merlin’s private office.

This was where Jack and Arthur wanted to begin their search for any sort of evidence as to what had happened to Merlin. 

It was located in the main campus building, a three-story edifice with two long wings on either side of the blockier front structure.  It was where many of the instructors’ offices were located, as well as the library, and Jack, Arthur, and Sabrina took the steps without paying any sort of attention to the comings and goings around them.  Jack had far more important things on his mind, and he knew his grandson felt the same way. 

They really needed to get _into_ Merlin’s office.

Arthur had thought he could.  Jack had meant what he’d said: Merlin would never deliberately keep his mate out of anything.  During their first life together Merlin had kept so many secrets from Arthur in the beginning of their relationship, and he’d regretted it even when things eventually came to light and burned away the darkness of the lies Merlin had told to Arthur in order to protect himself. 

Arthur had forgiven him, back then, but it had carried over into this life, and Merlin had promised that he’d never hide anything like that ever again.  It was one of the reasons Jack was very concerned about what had happened to his grandson-by-mating, as Merlin wouldn’t have simply run off without telling Arthur.

There was no telling what had occurred, to both Merlin and now to Phillip, and the Doctor.  As far as Jack was concerned all three of them were now missing, and he would do anything to get them back.

His history with the Doctor might have once been rocky, but this eleventh version of him had done everything he could to make up for his previous regeneration’s behaviour.  It was as if he was finally seeing Jack for who he was, not for what he’d once been, and the immortal was grateful for it.  It didn’t hurt that they were family now.  It was as if this Doctor didn’t see Jack as his former had: wrong, and that he shouldn’t exist.  Something had changed, and the Time Lord had once claimed that it was because he’d taken a look at Jack’s future.  But he suspected it was more than that, and Jack wasn’t about to ask questions.  He would accept that the Doctor had changed, and welcome him into his family.

Merlin’s office was on the top floor, along one of the side wings that stuck out from the main section of the building, where the library was.  Jack wasn’t the least bit magical, but even he could feel the power radiating from the door, subtly pushing him away.  If it wasn’t for that sensation, Jack would have assumed it was just a plain wooden door, with no adornments, looking just a little beat up from decades of wear.  There wasn’t even a name plaque on the door to announce that the titular headmaster and most powerful wizard in the universe held hours within.

“Even I can feel that,” Sabrina commented. 

“You and me both,” Jack agreed.

Arthur didn’t say anything.  He stepped up to the closed door, one hand out, and the other on Excalibur’s hilt.  Then, with a smooth motion he drew that ancient and powerful sword, holding it out, point upward, in front of him. 

Jack realised what Arthur was attempting to do even as his grandson sliced the air carefully with his sword, the tip only a hair away from the wood of the door.

Of course, Merlin had primed the door to react to Excalibur.  Only one person was able to wield it, and that was the one person he’d want to have access. 

Jack noticed immediately when the wards went down; the pressing against his skin that had heralded the magic on the door fading away. 

Arthur was smirking as he re-sheathed Excalibur.  He put his hand on the doorknob and, with a flourish, he turned it and pushed the door open.  “Shall we?” he invited.

Without waiting for an answer, Arthur walked into Merlin’s office.  Jack gave his daughter a glance, and Sabrina rolled her eyes at him.  “He’s such a show-off,” she sighed.  “I wonder where he gets that from.”

“I was a show-off back before I was born into this family,” Arthur called out, “just ask Merlin when we bring him home.”

Jack laughed, joining Arthur. 

Merlin’s office was neat as a pin, despite all the of books and papers that filled the space.  It would have made Ianto’s neat-freak heart proud, Jack thought to himself, standing in the centre of the room and looking around, impressed at the orderliness.  It was the direct opposite of Merlin’s father, he reflected, recalling the time he’d travelled in the TARDIS as a mortal, along with the Ninth Doctor and Rose, and the clutter within the time machine had been _epic_. 

Arthur was at the desk.  There was a computer, although it wasn’t as fancy as the ones Jack had gotten used to, and the former Once and Future King – not a title Arthur actually liked – pulled the keyboard toward him and got to work.

Sabrina had moved past Jack toward one of the actual, physical filing cabinets that were against one wall.  She had one of the drawers open and was rifling through the files within, long fingers flipping them as she perused their tags.

Jack took the bookshelves.  The books on them were arranged by subject and alphabetically, which made it easier for him to sort through them.  He had to smile as he recognised several of the titles as presents from him and Ianto, and from other members of their family.  Interspersed with the books were photographs and keepsakes, and it was almost like a trip down memory lane for the immortal.

“I think I have something,” Sabrina called out.

Arthur spun the chair around and Jack joined the others at the desk as Sabrina laid the file out on the blotter.  Inside were several forms as well as some handwritten sheets in a scrawling hand that Jack found himself squinting at to read. 

On the front of the file was clipped a picture.  It was a young woman, with blonde hair and dark eyes.  She was smiling somewhat coquettishly, as if she was trying to seduce whoever was examining the image.  Her face was round and Jack had to admit she wasn’t unattractive on first inspection.

The problem was, Jack thought he might have met her before.  He just couldn’t think of where.

“Lucy Cole,” Sabrina read from the file, “is in the top of all of her classes, according to this.  She’s been a student here for four years now, and Merlin was apparently so impressed with her progress that he’d placed her in several advanced classes, one of them he, himself, taught.  He thought she was showing a lot of promise, especially with weather magic.”

“Does it say anything about the argument she and Merlin got into?” Arthur asked. 

She looked frustrated.  “Not in here.”  She flipped through the papers, her eyes darting as she read quickly.  “There is a note here that Merlin was becoming a bit concerned with some of her experimentation, but nothing concrete.  And certainly nothing about dark magic, or the expulsion proceedings that were mentioned in the school records I managed to look at.”  She sounded frustrated, and Jack couldn’t blame her.  It meant that the rumours she’d painstakingly discovered might be just that…rumours, and nothing to do with this supposed disagreement between Merlin and his student, and the expulsion might have been for a different reason altogether.

“Merlin should have a personal journal of some sort,” Arthur said.  “He was always keeping them.  Says it was a holdover from something his parents did.  But there’s nothing on the computer that’s even close to anything like that…not that I’ve found, at any rate.”

It suddenly hit Jack, and he was back at the shelves, his finger running across the spines of the books, searching for something that he was positive would be there. 

“Ah ha,” he murmured.

There were four, hand-bound leather journals on one of the shelves, their spines unmarked. 

“What is it?” Sabrina asked.

“The Doctor and River only kept physical journals,” he answered, taking the four journals from their places and bringing them back to the desk.  “When Ianto found out about Merlin wanting to do the same thing, he made certain that Merlin had several of them.”

“That’s right,” Arthur breathed, taking one of the books almost reverently. “I remember Grandtad Ianto giving them to Merlin as gifts.  I just never saw them again after that.”

“Okay,” Sabrina said, “does anyone else feeling just a little bit creepy about reading Merlin’s private diaries?”

“Ianto once put me on decaf for a week one time I read one of his journals,” Jack shuddered melodramatically.  “But this is different.  We need to know what happened between him and Lucy Cole.  I can’t help but think she had something to do with his disappearance, and that it’s all tied into that Director Level event that had Phillip leaving Hubworld _and_ summoning the Doctor.”

“Phillip must have thought something along those lines if he sent me to check into Merlin’s disappearance,” Sabrina agreed.  “He just didn’t have any other information at the time except for his own suspicions.”

“And now we know about this argument,” Jack said.  “I don’t want to follow Phillip until we have more facts, and if this had anything to do with Merlin’s disappearance.”

“Dad, do you know where Phillip is?”

“I know where he was going,” Jack admitted.  “But I’m sorry, sweetheart, it’s Director Level.” 

“No, that’s fine,” she answered.  “I understand the secrecy thing.  I just wish he’d have waited…although I can understand why he didn’t, if just from the Merlin angle.”

“He most likely thought he wouldn’t be gone all that long,” Arthur mused.  “And we all know Phillip by now: he knows what he’s doing, and had most likely gone into this situation as prepared as he thought he could be, which was why he decided to call the Doctor.”

“There may have been a time constraint as well.”  Phillip had written as much in the file he’d left for Jack.  Whoever had destroyed all those Vashta Nerada wouldn’t have wanted to hang around to get caught, and Phillip had thought the Doctor as perfectly acceptable back-up.  It had been the magical burst on the Library that had led him to get Merlin’s advice…only to discover that he’d vanished days earlier.  It only made sense that Phillip put two and two together, although he hadn’t wanted to believe that Merlin could do something like that.

And, if whoever had invaded the Library had done their killing using Merlin…Phillip hadn’t wanted for them to get away with his nephew-by-mating, and there had been the chance that they would have done away with Merlin the moment they hadn’t had any further use for him.

There had also been the slight chance that Merlin had killed the Vashta Nerada deliberately, in an attempt to bring his mother back from the dead.  Phillip’s own words on the subject had been reluctant, but it had been something he’d needed to consider. 

It was what had led him not to contact anyone in the family, not wanting to be the bearer of bad news.  He was always doing that sort of thing to protect those he cared for, and in Jack’s opinion it made him – at times – a self-sacrificing idiot.  Not that he’d have Phillip change for anything.

Merlin hadn’t had the closeness to his birth parents that Jack and Ianto’s children had…with the exception of Anwyn, but they’d done their best to fix that situation, and were closer to their eldest child than ever before.  The Doctor and River had almost been absentee parents, and Jack knew part of that was because, after River had died, Merlin reminded the Time Lord of his lost wife.  River, herself, had gotten into trouble early on, and had ended up in Stormcage Prison, and so she’d missed many of the milestones of her only son’s life.  It had turned out that she’d been incarcerated for something she hadn’t even done.    

And then, the day the Doctor had shown up and told Merlin that River had died at the Library, and that in fact he’d long known it was going to happen, had caused a rift between father and son that had never truly had a chance to heal.  The couple of times that River had shown up at Ddraig Llyn after she’d supposedly died had been hard on everyone.

Time travel was a bitch where Merlin’s mother was concerned.

Thank Goddess for Jack’s mother.  Samara had been there for Merlin, in a way that neither of his birth parents had been, even though her arrival had been long after Merlin had matured and had gained a family of his own.  Rhys Williams had also stepped in; he’d accepted Merlin as his own great-grandson, and had always had time for him when Merlin needed a shoulder to support him. He’d even worked at the school there on New Avalon, helping out with the logistical nightmare running a campus such as this could be, and had retired to New Avalon with his and Samara’s own family.

“We’re going to have to follow him, though,” Arthur pointed out.

Jack nodded.  Arthur was right.  Phillip had gone missing in the Library, and what had happened to Merlin seemed to have dovetailed into that.  “Let’s see if we can get something from these journals,” he said.  “Which one is the newest one?”

“This one,” Sabrina answered, holding one of the diaries up.  She handed it to Arthur, who accepted it solemnly.  “It should be you, Arthur.  Merlin is your mate.”

“She’s right,” Jack agreed.

Arthur’s expression was somewhere between hopeful and reluctant.  Jack couldn’t blame him for that at all.

He flipped to the back of the book; Jack knew he’d be going for the last entries.  If what Sabrina had heard was true, then the argument would have occurred a couple of standard weeks before Merlin’s disappearance.  Knowing his grandson-by-mating, Merlin would have recorded it faithfully, if just for his own, personal, records.

They waited as Arthur read the journal.  A couple of times he blushed slightly, and Jack had to stifle a smile at what he was assuming had been written.  He wasn’t as promiscuous as his reputation might have once been, but the immortal also wasn’t an innocent.  He was well aware of all of his children’s proclivities, even Cadi’s previous affair with his late partner, John Hart.  Jack hadn’t approved of that at all, but he really couldn’t say anything.  Cadi was an adult, after all, and capable of making her own decisions.  At least she hadn’t named that psychopath as her mate.  That would have had Ianto renewing his long-ago Vow of Vengeance against John, and that would have been a _real_ mess.

He knew immediately when Arthur got to the part they were searching for.  His face turned grave, and then anger darkened his blue eyes and they narrowed.  He resisted the urge to go around the desk and rest a hand on Arthur’s shoulder, familiar enough with his grandson to know the gesture wouldn’t be appreciated.

“Alright,” he finally said, looking up from the page he was on, “it appears that Merlin had been having a few concerns about how Lucy was twisting some of the spells she’d been learning.  He kept an eye on her, but didn’t see anything amiss…until she started some rather pointed questioning about what Merlin says is necromantic magic.”

It was Jack’s turn to frown.  There was something…damnit, he hated his memory sometimes.  Humans simply weren’t meant for immortality, and their memories had a tendency to fade over time…

“What is it, Dad?” Sabrina asked, sounding concerned.

“It’s just…I know we’ve dealt with that sort of thing before.”  He raked a hand through his hair in frustration.  “But it was so long ago…I’ve forgotten.  I think it was back with our first Torchwood Team, back when we were based in Old Cardiff…” 

“Tad might remember,” she said. 

Sabrina was trying to be soothing but Jack didn’t want to be soothed.  He wanted to remember, damnit!

“It’s probably not all that important,” Arthur replied.  “If it was back all that time ago, I doubt it has much bearing on what’s happening now.”

Jack nodded, conceding the point.  Still, he was going to ask Ianto about it when he next spoke to his mate.  “Go on,” he urged, signalling that he was alright.

“So, what…she wanted to raise someone from the dead?” Sabrina scoffed. 

“That’s what Merlin assumed,” Arthur confirmed.  “He tried to brush the questions off, but this Lucy began to press, and that was apparently what caused their argument.  Merlin practically ordered her to stop her line of questioning, and she refused.  That was when he began the expulsion proceedings, although he really didn’t want to.  It seemed he didn’t trust her not to make her own enquiries even if she would no longer have access to the resources at any of the magical schools.”

“Does it say why he stopped?” Jack asked.

Arthur’s eyes flickered down at the page.  “Merlin writes that Lucy came to him and claimed to have had a change of heart.  Apparently, her lover had talked her out of it, and she didn’t want to risk losing him.  She also claimed that she’d only really wanted to understand the process, not to actually perform any sort of magic involving bringing someone back to life.”

“Merlin should have sent her to talk to Phillip,” Sabrina rolled her eyes.  “He’d have been more than happy to set her straight about what hell he went through to come back from the dead.”

She had a point.  Phillip’s resurrection might not have involved necromancy, but it had been horrific, and a combination of the technology that had succeeded in bringing him back and the magic that had been used to kill him had made him immortal, and a mage to boot.  From what Clint had claimed, his mate still wasn’t entirely over it, and it had been millennia.

“She practically begged for another chance,” Arthur went on as if his aunt hadn’t interrupted.  “She took a vow not to have anything to do with dark magic again, and Merlin accepted it.”

“But he didn’t stop keeping an eye on her.”  To Jack, it had been obvious that Merlin wouldn’t have just taken her word for it.

“He didn’t, yes.  If anyone knows how pervasive dark magic is, it’s Merlin.  He and Lisa _do_ talk, and she’s been more than forthright with him about her former life as Morgana.  I think she’s more than a little terrified that she might fall back into old and bad habits where magic is concerned, even though it seems as if she wasn’t reborn with any.”

Jack could understand.  Lisa didn’t want to have anything to do with her previous life as Morgana le Fay, and hated to be reminded of it.  It was the number one reason she’d stayed Lisa Harkness-Jones, even when the others who’d been reincarnated had taken at least part of those former existences back.

Arthur, though, was glad to have his sister back, and not the mad creature she’d become.  Even if she was now technically his aunt. 

“Was there any sign that she was up to something?” Jack pressed.  While they certainly didn’t have any proof of it, his instincts were telling him that Lucy was somehow behind Merlin’s disappearance.  If she really was practicing dark magic…

Merlin might be powerful, but he was still human…well, Time Lord, and he wasn’t infallible.  He could still be tricked or trapped and, for all of his power, be completely helpless.

Arthur flipped through the diary, coming to another page.  “Merlin writes here that Lucy had been doing a lot of research.  Mostly into magical history, which didn’t bother him at first.”  He paused, reading some more.  “He checked her library time, and was surprised to see that a lot of it had to do with what used to be SHIELD, and their collecting of magical artefacts back in the day.  There was also a fair number of hits for Torchwood, as well as the Warehouse.”

“She was searching for something,” Jack concluded. 

And, suddenly, things began to fall into place.

He could tell they were for Arthur as well.

Sabrina glanced between the two of them.  “Do you need me to leave the room?”  She wasn’t upset, but Jack could tell she was very curious and yet figured out that this was all a part of what he and Arthur couldn’t tell her.

“Do you mind, sweetheart?”  He did hate excluding her, but she was still a Torchwood operative and wasn’t privy to the sort of conclusions he and Arthur were obviously drawing together.

“I’ll keep watch at the door, in case someone tries to eavesdrop.”  Sabrina left, but not before turning and saying, “If there’s anything I can do to help, you just have to ask.”  Then she was gone, the door closing softly behind her.

“That’s what happened at the Library,” Jack said the moment they were alone.

Arthur was nodding.  “Whatever Lucy was looking for here, she must have traced it to the Library.”  He leaned back in the chair, steepling his fingers.  “But weren’t all the books there printed especially for the Library?  That was what caused the infestation: they’d used trees that had housed the Vashta Nerada.”

Jack began to pace.  “That’s what we’ve always been told.  But what if…what if the Lux family also allowed certain artefacts to be stored there?”  Then he paused.  “No, not an artefact…a book.  A particular book.”

“A magical book. A spell book, perhaps?”

“That has to be it.”  He leaned his hands on the desk, staring down at his grandson.  “Did Merlin try to trace back what Lucy was searching for?”

Arthur picked up the open journal once more.  He flipped past several pages, as Jack stood there, nerves tingling with the sudden sense of urgency he was feeling.  If this was a powerful book, then they couldn’t let Lucy get her hands on it.

It had been six days ago though.  It might already be too late, and Lucy could be out there in the universe somewhere, with a powerful magical book and a plan to raise someone from the dead.

That begged the question: just who was she planning on bringing back?  Was it someone dangerous, or someone she’d lost and was desperate to resurrect?

He thought back on Phillip’s notes.  One of the things he’d been worried about was the deaths of all those Vashta Nerada, and how they might fit into events.  Magic had a price for resurrection: a life for a life.  He’d considered that all that loss of life had been toward bringing River Song back, and that Merlin had been just that desperate. 

He’d been wrong, of course, but then it had been a logical conclusion to draw.  Everyone in their family knew how much Merlin missed his mother, and had even missed her before her death.  But this new evidence pointed toward it having been Lucy Cole who’d done this deed in order to retrieve a book that would allow her to do just that.

“Grandfather,” Arthur broke into his thoughts, “I think I have something.”

“What is it?” Jack demanded. 

“It appears Lucy might have been searching for something called the Darkhold…”

 

 

 


	12. Chapter 12

 

**_27 August 5192 (Earth Standard Date)_ **

**_New Avalon_ **

**_(Six Standard Days Previously)_ **

****

Merlin was incandescently angry.

He stormed down the hallway, toward the lecture hall, and a few students that were in the area scattered immediately at the sight of him.  He wondered vaguely if he was wearing his father’s Oncoming Storm face, and decided he didn’t care.

He felt justified in it.

The lecture hall door was closed, and he yanked it open, breaking into the current lecture going on inside.  The teacher, an older woman named Stella Courtney, looked up from her notes, her eyes widening in shock as she noticed who’d just broken into her class.  “Headmaster Williams-Song!” she exclaimed, her normally alto tone rising up into a near-squeak. 

“I apologise, Ms Courtney, but I need to take Lucy Cole out of your class.”  He was growling enough to do his dragon relations proud, and the woman flinched.  He would have felt bad about it, if he wasn’t so very furious at the moment.

The students in the lecture hall began to murmur, and Merlin just knew the stories that would be popping up about this would make the rounds of the campus at the speed of hot gossip, but he didn’t care.  He’d try to do damage control later on, but at that moment he needed to address things _now_.

The object of his ire stood up from her seat, gathering her materials.  The expression on her face was of confusion, but Merlin knew differently.  Lucy had lied to him, and was up to something so inherently dangerous it had to be stopped.

He’d given her a chance.  Now he was seriously regretting that decision.

All eyes were on her as Lucy made her way down the steps and toward Merlin.  She was dressed in her usual red; today, it was a bright red tunic, darker red trousers, and matching shoes.  It made the porcelain of her skin seem even paler, and her dark eyes larger.  Her blonde hair was loose on her shoulders, and she looked so very young and innocent as she presented herself to him.

“My office.  Now.”

Merlin spun on his heel and left the hall, his magical senses telling him that Lucy was following.  He made certain the door was shut, hoping that Ms Courtney would be able to get back to teaching her lesson.  He hated to be _that_ person, but as soon as he’d discovered what Lucy was up to he’d needed to fetch her immediately. He simply couldn’t trust her any longer, and sooner she got her away from the rest of the students, the better.

His thoughts were in turmoil as he led her out into the quad outside, and then across it and toward the building where his office was.  Merlin had no idea if there were other students out there who were into the same thing as Lucy was, but he was aware that she had her own personal charisma, one that drew people to her.  It as a combination of beauty and brains that made her desirable, as well as the magic that she was able to wield. 

Merlin was so very disappointed, as well as angry.  Lucy had shown such promise, when she’d first come to the school.  He’d seen something in her, something that Merlin had wanted to cultivate, and when she’d proved to be just as powerful as he’d thought she might be he hadn’t hesitated to take on at least part of her training onto himself.

He’d heard the rumours about the reasons he’d accepted her into the school in the first place; about her wealthy family, and how her father had bought her way in.  That was patently not true, but it hadn’t mattered just how Lucy had excelled.  Merlin would never have let anyone in who didn’t have a talent for magic.  A person had to earn their place.  It wouldn’t have just been handed to a person.

They were both silent until the door to Merlin’s office was closed, and his wards were in place.  He didn’t even head around his desk; he simply stood there, glaring at her, while the confused expression on Lucy’s face had morphed into a smirk.

“If you’d wanted to get me alone,” she purred, “we could have done without the drama.”

“Stop,” he snarled.  “Just stop.  I want to know what the hells you think you’re up to, and I want to know _now_.”

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean.” 

He wasn’t buying that for a second. 

“I know you’ve been looking for something, Lucy.  I know what it is.”

Her eyes flashed in anger, but it was quickly gone, replaced by something Merlin couldn’t read.  “Do you?” she challenged.

“I do.  And it doesn’t matter where you search…you’re never going to find the Darkhold.”

His blood had frozen when Merlin had figured out just what Lucy was up to.  The Darkhold, or The Book of Sins as it was also known, was quite possibly the most powerful book of dark magic ever created.  Having been transcribed by the Elder God, Chthon, the Darkhold was the repository of every black spell ever created.  Many times over the billions of years since its creation its pages had been scattered throughout space and time, only to be collected together once more.

Merlin knew quite a bit about the Darkhold.  He’d been the one to find it nearly two hundred years ago, in the Torchwood Hoard on Hubworld.  He was also the one to arrange its current location, and there was no way anyone was going to get to it, even if they could figure out its whereabouts.

“I knew it!” she exclaimed.  The smile on her face looked as if it had been slashed there with a knife.  “I knew you’d know where it is!”

“I’m sorry, Lucy…but I can’t let you continue on at the school.  The problem is, I’m also sure you’re not going to give up this quest.”  Merlin didn’t want to hurt her, but he only really had one choice.  “You can’t be allowed to get your hands on the Darkhold.”  He felt his power rising within him, tinged with regret that such a promising young woman had fallen so far. 

The binding spell would make certain that Lucy wouldn’t be able to access her magic, ever again.  He would have to have her imprisoned, to keep her from trying to find the Darkhold.  Then he would have to try to discover just who – if anyone – had been in on this with her.  Lucy had a quite a circle of friends, and each one of them would have to be vetted.  He knew he could ask Phillip for help, and he’d gladly give it.  Phillip was aware of what could occur when a rot began within an organisation; he’d had to deal with that, back in his SHIELD days, with HYDRA.

The fury on her face matched what Merlin himself was feeling.  “You don’t understand!  I need to bring him back!  It’s my destiny!”

And there it was, the reason for the need to find the Darkhold.  The reason she’d begun asking questions about necromancy in the first place.

His fury left him in a sudden wave, replaced by sympathy.  “I’m sorry, Lucy.  But you can’t bring anyone back.  Once a person is dead, they’re gone.  There’s nothing that can be done.”

That wasn’t exactly true, but he wasn’t about to explain that to the raving young woman in front of him.  His Granddad Jack had been brought back, through Rose Tyler and the Vortex.  Phillip had been dead for days before science and magic had combined to resurrect him.  And they still weren’t completely sure what had brought Henry back, although Merlin could sense the magic within him.

There was also reincarnation, but that was something completely different.  That wasn’t using dark magic and a book that should never have been created in the first place. 

“He should never have died,” she raged.  “That damned dragon gutted him like a fish!  He was a great man, and he didn’t deserve that sort of death!”

Her face was red and blotchy, and her breathing was ragged.  Her fists were clenched at her sides, her tablet and books dropped to the floor.  She was glaring at him with sheer hatred, and a slight breeze was ruffling her hair, from her magic reacting to her mood.

Merlin did notice all of that, but it was her assertion that a dragon had killed whoever it was that she wanted to resurrect from the dead that really had his attention.

What dragon had that been?

“My Harry had a destiny!” she went on.  “He was going to rule, and I was going to be his Queen!  But then that dragon had to do it, he had to kill my Harry!  He wrecked it all!  Him, and that bastard Doctor!”

Merlin reared back from the vitriol she was spewing.  Now she was going on about his father being involved? 

No, this had to stop now.  He could ask questions later.

He didn’t know the whole story, but he knew enough to figure out that Lucy was borderline insane, with either grief or revenge he wasn’t sure.  His own magic reacted to the danger this young woman was posing, and he lashed out with the binding spell, needing to shut her down now before anything bad happened.

Lucy went to her knees as Merlin’s magic swirled around her.  She bared her teeth up at him, snarling like an animal, her magic trying to strike back, but the binding spell was already taking affect.

Just when Merlin thought things were over, the door to his office opened.

The movement distracted him. 

The young man who stepped inside the office was dark haired and well built, with a handsome face and well-defined cheekbones and dark eyes.  He was dressed much like any other student, but Merlin didn’t recognise him.

But how had he gotten past the magical wards on the office?

And then Merlin registered the gun in the man’s hand.

The binding spell he’d begun on Lucy was powerful magic.  He needed to keep it in strict control, and the man’s sudden appearance had him losing his grip on that control, for just a single instant.

Merlin was the most powerful wizard in the universe, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t be distracted. 

Even as he was pulling his magic back under his command, the man with the gun pulled the trigger.

There was an intense pressure in his chest.

His magic vanished.  Fear took its place, because whatever he’d been shot with must have been responsible for his power being snuffed out.

Merlin collapsed to the floor, on his side, completely unable to move.  His eyes were still open, so he could just make out the man’s shoes as he walked past.  “Are you alright?” he asked. 

The wizard realised he wasn’t speaking to him, but to Lucy.

“Perfect timing,” she answered, her voice rough.  There was a thin edge of irrationality in the words, and Merlin would have shivered if he’d been physically able to.

“You signalled me, and I was here.  Did you find out what we needed?”

“In a way.  I don’t know where the Darkhold is, but he does.”

“Well, then,” the man said, sounding perfectly reasonable, “we’ll just need to take him with us.”

“Can we get him out of here without anyone noticing?”

“Oh, ye of little faith,” the man chuckled.  “I have a ship in orbit, and we have these.”  Merlin couldn’t see what the man had, but he knew it couldn’t be good.  “I also have access to a mind probe.  That should get us what we need.”

Merlin’s hearts hammered in his chest at that.  He was well aware of just what a mind probe could do, and he didn’t want anything to do with it.  He’d seen people who’d been under its influence, and there was a reason they were now outlawed within the Human Empire, except as a last resort.  As developed as his mind was, there was no way he could hide anything from a mind probe.  He might have been able to fight it for a while, but eventually they would get what they were looking for.

He had to escape.   

He couldn’t let the Darkhold get into their hands.  It was too dangerous, and he was now fairly certain that Lucy was mad, that losing whoever she’d lost had unhinged her. He had no idea what dragon had killed her Harry, but he just knew a member of his family was now under threat as well. 

Someone grabbed the ends of the scarf he wore, yanking him up into a sitting position.  Merlin had no choice but to flop around as the man attached something to the front of his shirt.  Merlin couldn’t get a good enough look at it, but he suspected it was some sort of personal transporter.

Where it had come from, he didn’t know.  Such things weren’t common, since most people relied on either ship travel or transmat.  They’d once been standard kit in Vortex Manipulators but since they’d been mostly taken out of service they just weren’t easy to find.  It showed that these two had some fairly major resources, and he had to wonder just who this ‘Harry’ person had been.

“Let’s get the hell out of here,” the man said.  “We’ll know what he knows soon enough.”

A tingling began in his chest, flaring out along every nerve in Merlin’s body. It was the feeling of teleportation; completely unlike what he usually experienced when using a transmat, but there was no doubt that whatever device these two had was working.

He couldn’t even fight back as his office faded out around them.  He only hoped that Arthur would find him.

 

 


	13. Chapter 13

 

**_1 September 5192 (Earth Standard Date)_ **

**_Luna University_ **

**_The Moon_ **

****

Ianto couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

The woman standing there was very much Suzie Costello, with a few little differences.  This version wasn’t as sharp-featured as the one he remembered from his and Jack’s old team back during the beginning of their Torchwood; her face was rounder, even though she did have the same cheekbones if he was recalling correctly.  She was also a little taller, almost Ianto’s own height, and a little curvier in shape.

Still, he was staring at Suzie Costello, the woman who’d committed suicide because of that magical, alien glove that had preyed upon her mind and soul.

Ianto also remembered that he hadn’t trusted her back then.  There had been a darkness within Suzie, and even though they’d worked together for years he’d never told her that he was a dragon.  So long he’d been able to avoid her finding out.  She’d been responsible for a lot of bad that had happened to the team, but at the same time she’d done a lot of good, as well. 

That darkness was gone.  Ianto couldn’t feel it any longer.

As he stood there, staring at her but not saying anything, Suzie’s uncertainty seemed to grow, and she took a hesitant step backward. 

Ianto immediately cursed himself for that, and before she could go any farther he was surging forward and wrapping his arms around her.

Suzie was trembling in his arms, but she folded her own arms around him, resting her face in the crook of his neck and inhaling deeply.  “Ianto,” she whimpered, “I am so sorry…”

The dragon was startled out of the hug, pulling back and meeting her eyes.  “You remember?” he gasped in shock.

Of course she did.  It had been obvious from the moment she’d entered the café that she’d known who he was. 

Suzie nodded.  “I’ve known for a while now,” she admitted.  “My parents – my current ones – had figured out something was different about me from the time I was five years old, but I didn’t realise that the memories that were coming back were actually real.   My parents thought I was just overly imaginative.  It wasn’t until I was in my twenties that I figured things out, and told my Mum and Dad.  They didn’t believe me at first, but I managed to convince them.”  She smiled; a soft thing that would have been out of place on the first Suzie’s face.  “They encouraged me to come and find you, but I couldn’t do that…not after what happened, and what I’d tried to do.”

“You could have at any time,” he assured her, “and Jack and I would have welcomed you.  The past is the past, Suzie, and despite everything you were a friend.”

She laughed.  “Just not a good enough one to let in on your big secret apparently.”

Ianto was chagrined.  Yes, he’d hidden his true self from her, and he was still glad that he had, but now it felt a little bad that she was calling him out on it even though she didn’t seem at all upset about it.

“You don’t have to apologise,” she rushed to say, “because back then I wasn’t the best person.  I can understand why you did it.  I’m hoping we can start over, if that’s alright with you.”

“It’s more than alright,” he said warmly, relieved at her assurances.  “Come, sit down. Oh! You should meet my daughter and her mate…”  He turned back to the table, where Rowena and Henry were looking at the pair of them, Henry bemused and Rowena smiling.  “Suzie, this is Professor Rowena ap Llyn, my daughter, and her mate, Professor Henry Morgan.  Rowena…Henry…this is Suzie Costello, she was in mine and your Dad’s first Torchwood team.”  Then he started.  “Wait…do you go by Suzie anymore?  I shouldn’t have assumed…”

“Suzie is just fine,” she answered. “I’ll admit…it’s better than my birth name, which is Chastity.”

Ianto flinched.  “Why on Earth did your parents do that to you?”

His old friend laughed.  “It’s a family name.  But I think I like Suzie better.”

“I think I would, too,” Rowena said, joining in on the laughter.

“Chastity isn’t that bad,” Henry denied, scandalised. 

“My love, that’s because you were born in the 1700’s,” Rowena teased.  “You wanted to name our daughter Prudence.”

“Prudence is a perfectly good name,” the immortal huffed. 

She patted his hand.  “If you say so.”

“Come and sit,” Ianto invited her. 

“I would love to,” Suzie said, “but there’s a lot you need to know and I don’t think we want to discuss this in public.  Is there someplace we can go for more privacy?”

“Take her home, Tad,” Rowena replied.  “Henry and I have classes this afternoon, but you’re free.  I think that being brought her here for a reason, and you should listen.”

The Tarot Girl.  Ianto searched the café for her, but she was gone, as were the cards she’d laid on the table…except for one: the multi-headed serpent, its edges worn and frayed with age.

Ianto picked it up.  It was cool in his fingers, feeling almost like fabric instead of paper.  “You’re right.  I’ll see you both tomorrow.”

“Go, Ianto,” Henry shooed them off.  “Go and take care of whatever’s going on, no matter how long it takes.”

Tucking the card into the inner pocket of his tunic, he offered his arm to Suzie.  “Let’s go home.”

 

 


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I won't be posting again until next Tuesday, I'll be out of town. My sister is having a procedure done and I need to be with her. 
> 
> Oh, and how about that "Agents of SHIELD" finale last night?

 

**_1 September 5192 (Earth Standard Date)_ **

**_Ddraig Llyn_ **

****

The transmat deposited them onto to the pad that had long been hidden under the stairs of his and Jack’s home.

On their way to the station on the Moon, Suzie had filled Ianto in on what had been going on with her ever since she’d discovered her first life.  She’d become a quantum physicist, and was working at one of the major research facilities on the planet Proxima Titan.  She was currently married to a member of her team, and they were thinking about taking on a third into their home and bed.  As she chatted on, a part of Ianto was wondering if Suzie was going to be the first of their old team to finally come back to them, and he couldn’t help but hope for it more than anything.

Once out in the hallway, Ianto called out, knowing that Jack was at home, working on a project for Torchwood.  Silence greeted his call, and Ianto frowned.  It was so unusual for their home to be so empty anymore, but it seemed as if no one was home at the moment.  Jack must have had to go to Hubworld for a reason, he assumed.

“Can I get you a coffee?” he asked, leading his guest out into the lounge. 

“Your coffee?” Suzie exclaimed.  “I would love one!  I get the feeling I haven’t had a decent coffee in any of my previous lives.”

Ianto chuckled, heading into the kitchen.  Suzie went with him, as if she didn’t want to let him out of her sight. 

As he got the coffee started, he asked her about what had brought her to him now, after so long of staying away.

Suzie sighed.  “About three weeks ago, I was approached by this man who seemed to know exactly who I was.”

Ianto frowned.  “You mean, he knew you were Suzie Costello?”

She nodded.  “He claimed that he’d been able to track me down with magic.  That he knew I’d somehow regained all my memories of my time with Torchwood.” 

“But why?” He also wanted to ask how such magic worked, but Ianto thought they might be better asking Merlin that question.

She worried her lower lip with her teeth. “He…Ianto, he wanted to ask me about the glove.”

Ianto’s hand froze as he was reaching up into the cabinet for the mugs.  “How the hell would he even know about it?” he demanded, starting the movement once more.  

The glove had had the ability to resurrect a person for a couple of minutes.  Suzie had been the one to discover what it did; it had also driven her mad, making her into a vicious killer just so she could recreate the high of bringing someone back.  Its evil had been magical-based, and Ianto hadn’t wanted to be anywhere near it.  He could recall attempting to talk Jack out of letting her use it, but his mate – although Jack hadn’t been at the time, and in fact they hadn’t been all that close at all – had done the exact opposite.

Suzie had taken her own life, with a bullet to the head, and it was because of that cursed thing.

As far as Ianto was aware the glove was still in the Torchwood Archives on Hubworld, in the securest of the Secure Archives.  It was one of the many things they’d brought with them from Earth, not wanting to leave it drowned in the old Cardiff Hub. 

In fact, it shared archive space with the sword that had killed Ianto’s family.  And that was where it needed to stay.

“He didn’t tell me that, even though I did ask,” she said.  “But he wanted to know how it had worked and if the resurrection properties could be extended to bring back life…permanently.”

The dragon couldn’t help the shiver.  Someone wanting to bring back the dead?  Permanently?  That wasn’t right at all.

“Of course, I told him no,” she hastened to add.  “I told him I wouldn’t even know where to even begin to try something like that, and I wouldn’t want to anyway.”

He reached over and took her hand, needing to reassure her that everything was going to be alright.  “That thing is locked up and no one can get to it, except for maybe a handful of people, none of which would even be tempted to use it.”

The tension in Suzie’s shoulders relaxed a little.  “Yeah, from the way he was talking he didn’t actually have it.  But Ianto…he certainly seemed like he knew more than he should, and that he might be able to get his hands on it.”

“That’s impossible.  That thing is buried deep on Hubworld, and the current Archivist can kick the arse of anyone who tries to get in there without authorisation.”  He had absolute faith that Melinda May could do just that.  She took her duties very seriously, and wasn’t about to let the Archives get raided as long as she drew breath.

She loosened a little bit more.  “That’s good.  I remember what happened to me when I used it. I wouldn’t want that to happen to anyone else.”

The coffee maker signalled that it was done, and he poured them both a mug.  “You take it black, as I recall?”

Suzie grinned.  “You even remember how I take my coffee after all these years?”

“It’s my superpower, if you listen to my eldest daughter, Anwyn.”

She took her first sip, sighing in pleasure.  “Yes, it’s just as good as my memories say it was.” 

Ianto dug out some biscuits, offering them to his guest.  Suzie took one, nibbling on it as her eyes went grave once more.  “There’s something else…when he discovered I couldn’t help him with the glove, he tried to recruit me.  He said…” she took another sip, as if she was trying to gather her thoughts, “he said that he and others were trying to resurrect one of the greatest men to have ever lived, and when that happened I could get my revenge on Jack.  And you.  I told him there wasn’t a reason for me to get revenge on either of you, and he was really disappointed and angry.  Ianto…I got the feeling that he knew the pair of you, and was hoping I’d help get to you.  But I couldn’t do it.”

And Ianto had to hug her once more.  “I feel like we did fail you, though,” he whispered into her hair.

“No, Ianto.  You and Jack didn’t fail me.  I failed myself.  I know you tried to convince Jack that the glove was dangerous, but even if he’d ordered me to stop I don’t think I could have done.  I was far too addicted to the power by that point to let it go.” 

She pulled away.  “But Ianto, you have to know something…I lied to him.”

The dragon was puzzled.  “What do you mean?”

Suzie crossed her arms over her chest, as if she was trying to hold herself together. “I worked it out, you see…there was that knife that went with the glove.”

He nodded her to go on.  The knife and the glove had been boxed up together.

“You can bring someone back all the way with the glove, as long as you used the knife as well.  It…” she swallowed. “It was the reason I was using it to kill people, and using the glove to bring them back.  I figured out that using them together would bring someone completely back to life.”

Ianto was aghast.  He was having a little trouble breathing at _that_ revelation.  “How?”

“The knife could create a connection between the victim and the person using the glove.  It meant that whoever was dead would be able to draw the lifeforce from the glove’s user.  Of course, they would die in the end, but the dead person would be alive once more.”  She looked heartbroken.  “I set it up, before I killed myself, that you’d have to bring me back at some point.  Goddess, Ianto…I was so insane by that point I would have done anything!  And now all I can do is imagine if it had been either you or Jack using the glove to bring me back, and it makes me sick…”

Ianto had to sort through his mental files to bring up the circumstances she was speaking of.  It had been those murders, back when Gwen had been on the team…she’d wanted to use the glove to bring Suzie back, to question her, but both he and Jack had vetoed that idea and had stuck to their principles about ever using the thing again. 

If they’d somehow caved to Gwen’s demands, and if Jack – because Ianto wouldn’t have touched the thing no matter what – had used it, and had worked out how to couple the knife with the glove…yes, he could certainly understand why Suzie felt that way.

An immortal, mad Suzie Costello didn’t bear thinking about.

“I’m so glad you didn’t,” she murmured, “because I needed to stay dead.  I guess reincarnation eventually cured the madness the glove tapped into, and now I have a life I can be proud of.”  Her eyes were wet, and Ianto reached over for a tea towel for her to use to wipe the tears away.

“We would never have brought you back,” he assured her.  “No matter what you did to instigate it, there was no way we would have used the glove on you.”

“I can honestly thank you for that now.” 

“You’re quite welcome.”  He slid the biscuit package toward her once more, and Suzie accepted.

“I have to ask,” the expression on her face told Ianto that she was screwing her courage up for something, “why did you bring me here?  I mean, it was obvious back then that you didn’t trust me, and yet you brought me into your home today.  Why did you do that?”

“My mother always told me to trust my heart,” he admitted, taking her hand.  “Back when I’d first met you, there was a darkness within you that I just didn’t trust.  Now, though…that darkness is gone.  It must have been cleansed from you the same way the madness was.  Besides, despite everything, it’s so very good to see you again.”

“You too,” Suzie replied, squeezing her hand. 

They were silent for a moment, and then Ianto said, “Did that man tell you anything else?”

“No, he didn’t.  Honestly, I was surprised he left me alive.  He just didn’t seem the type, you know what I mean?”

Ianto did.  He’d seen those sorts throughout his long life.

“But then, just as I was thinking of coming to Torchwood, that creepy girl showed up and told me she knew where you were, and that she’d take me to you.  I might not have believed her, only she gave me a Tarot reading that would have curled my hair if it wasn’t already naturally that way.  Do you know what she is?”

“Just that her race is very old, and that she does know what she’s talking about…even if she insists on couching everything in riddles.”

Suzie snorted.  “You’re not kidding.  Although she did bring me to you, so I’m grateful for that.”

“Suzie, can you tell me anything else about this man?”

“He was human.  Dark hair, dark eyes.  Very intense.  Handsome, with cheekbones to kill for.  There was something very scary about him, too.  I can sit for a computer artist if you need me to.”

“That would be wonderful.”  They could send out an image for law enforcement on all Empire worlds to be on the lookout.  “He didn’t happen to give you a name, did he?”

“He did,” she said, “but I’m assuming it’s an alias.  I don’t think he’d have a reason to give me his real one.”

“True, but even an alias might be in the system somewhere.”  If it was a known one, it could give them some sort of clue as to what was really going on.

Suzie nodded, conceding his point.  “He said his name was Ward…Grant Ward.”

 

 


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is a day late, but I ended up staying over an extra day. Sister is doing fine, the bronchoscopy went well, now we just have to wait for results.

 

**_29 August 5192 (Earth Standard Date)_ **

**_The Library_ **

**_(Four Standard Days Previously)_ **

****

The Doctor hated being knocked unconscious.

He hated waking up with a tremendous headache even more

Third on that list: waking up after being receiving some sort of electrical shock. 

Fourth: realising he’d been tied up while he was unconscious.

So yes, pretty much normal for him…except for the electrical shock part.  That didn’t happen quite as often as the other three things.

He did manage to stifle the groan he wanted to make.  Instead, he opened his eyes, waited for them to focus properly, and then got a good look at just where he was.

The first thing he made out was Phillip, lying next to him.  It was obvious that he was still unconscious, his eyes closed and mouth slack.  He was breathing, and the Doctor found himself feeling a bit relieved at that.  Yes, Phillip might have been functionally immortal, but it wasn’t the type that Jack or Henry had: he could be killed, only it took catastrophic damage to achieve it, like being blown to bits or something equally terrible.  He was more like a dragon that way.

The second thing he noticed was his surroundings.  It was still the Library, as far as he could tell.  In fact, he thought he might be in the same room he was shocked into unconsciousness in.  He could make out the various display cases that he’d seen before, lending credence to the whole ‘Secure Archive’ aspect to the room.  There was still plenty of light; in fact, the lanterns and torches that had been set up pretty much made shadows impossible, so there were no places for the Vashta Nerada to swarm in.  The only place that might be a problem was around the damaged Node, underneath which was the single patch of darkness in the entire room.

The Doctor craned his head around, catching sight of the pair they’d seen just before the being rendered unconscious part of the proceedings.  Yes, there was something familiar about the woman, and he couldn’t put his finger on it…not that he could have done that anyway, with his hands tied behind his back as they were.  He couldn’t make out her face now, as her back was turned toward him, hunched together with her companion, who was just finishing up with whatever he was doing at the one case that had their singular attention.

From what the Doctor could make out, there was a single book within the case.  He couldn’t read anything on the cover, although there were words on it, as it was turned in just the wrong direction for him to make out much…only that it was really old.

His shifting a little must have caught the man’s eye, because he looked up from what he was doing.  “The Doctor’s awake,” he commented.

The Time Lord wondered how he’d known who he was, since he was positive he’d never seen the man before in any of his lives. 

His companion turned, and the Doctor thought maybe she’d told him, because that blonde was someone he was positive he’d met before, only he couldn’t figure out when or under what circumstances.  There was something in her dark eyes as she regarded him; they were intelligent, and tinged with the unmistakable gleam of madness.

She was smiling.  It wasn’t a pleasant expression.

“Welcome back, Doctor,” she said, her voice almost honey sweet.  “Honestly, I figured it would be the immortal waking up first, but this is a nice surprise.”

Well, that meant they knew about Phillip, as well, and that wasn’t a good thing.  He still remembered what had happened to Jack on board the _Valiant_ …

Then it slotted into place, and the Doctor wanted to curse in as many languages as he could.

He fought that down, and instead turned a friendly smile toward the woman he now recognised.  “Well, if it isn’t Lucy Saxon…”

The slightly crazed smile the woman wore turned almost genuinely happy.  “It’s good to know you hadn’t forgotten me, Doctor.  Although I go by Lucy Cole now.”

This must be a reincarnation.  It was the only thing that made sense.  “Well, I’d say it was a pleasure but I appear to be rather tied up at the moment…”

“It’s for your own protection.”

“From what?” the Doctor asked incredulously.  “The Vashta Nerada?  Last time I was here this sort of thing wouldn’t have given them a single issue.”

“Oh no,” Lucy denied.  “Being tied up protects you from my companion.  He’s rather jumpy when it comes to people trying to stop us from achieving our goal.”

The Doctor eyed her.  She was very much like the Lucy Saxon that he’d known back during the year that the Master had nearly destroyed the planet, and he had to wonder just how she had regained her memories of that time.  It was a rare reincarnation that got those memories back; as far as the Time Lord knew, it really was only those who were either related or affiliated with the Harkness-Jones clan.  His own son held the reincarnation of Merlin Emrys, Court Wizard for King Arthur, but he was a special case, simply because of the magic that had been cast at his and Arthur’s deaths.  That entire thing had been a mess, but the Doctor wasn’t at all bothered by the fact that his son was a Time Lord Magic-User who had been prophesied to bring magic back to the universe. 

The Doctor was perfectly fine with the idea of reincarnation, seeing it as just an extension of the Law of Conservation of Energy.  The soul was just another form of energy, and energy could not be created or destroyed. 

It was the whole remembering a past life thing that was just a bit bothersome.

No one should be able to do that, but then there was magic, so that could, at least, have a decent explanation.  Most highly-advanced races would have scoffed at the very notion of magic, but the Time Lords had been well aware of it almost from the beginning of their history.  They, themselves, hadn’t had much use for it, but they were certainly cognisant of magic. 

The stronger magic got, the more this sort of thing was most likely going to happen.  Still, it didn’t explain just how Lucy’s memories had been triggered.

He wanted to ask, but the Doctor didn’t think he’d get a straight answer.

However, there was something he _could_ ask that he would most likely get an answer for.

“And just what _is_ your goal?”

“Maybe you should leave it as a surprise,” her friend suggested mildly.  He had a flat accent, almost like Jack’s Boeshane one, only slightly different.  If the Doctor had to guess he would have put it as Earthen American.

Lucy laughed. “What, and not give him a chance to get his own version of revenge?”

The man shrugged, going back to what looked like final prep on the explosives.

“What do you mean by revenge?” The Time Lord wasn’t so sure he liked the sound of that.

“Why, for that damned dragon killing Harry, of course.  And once we bring him back, you can help out with that.”

She said it like it was the most natural thing in the world, but the Doctor shivered.

_They were intending of resurrecting the Master?_

The Doctor’s mind went back to that time, so many centuries ago for him now, when he’d begged Ianto and Jack and the Friends of the Great Dragons not to kill the Master.  Ianto – as his right as a dragon – had claimed Vengeance against the Master for what he’d done to Jack.  The Doctor hadn’t agreed; all he could see was the loneliness of being the last of the Time Lords, and willing to take the Master onto the TARDIS and to keep him imprisoned on her.

He’d been furious when Ianto had taken it into his own hands to take his vengeance.  It had coloured his and Jack’s relationship for so very long, until the Doctor had taken a good, long look at his own actions and at Jack and Ianto’s future – and an accidental visit from their eldest daughter – to let him see reason.  Well, it had also taken him regenerating, but then his last persona had always been a bit full of himself. 

At the time, a valid point had been brought up: how long would the Doctor have been able to hold the Master before he got loose once more?  He wasn’t stupid; the Master would have killed him in cold blood to get his hands on the TARDIS.  But at the time that hadn’t even crossed his mind, despite it being pointed out to him.  The Doctor had been far too wrapped up in his own despair to even consider that they might have been correct. 

It had taken Donna to begin the repair of his psyche after losing both Rose (twice!) and the Master, and even then it hadn’t taken full effect until he’d regenerated.  The Doctor liked to think he was a better person now, although he did still hold that tiny sliver of anger toward them executing the Master despite what the Doctor had wanted, but he did understand.

With the benefit of hindsight, he could see what everyone had been trying to tell him at the time.  He’d just been too angry and convinced he’d been correct to forgive.

The Doctor was so very glad that he, and Jack and Ianto, had finally forgiven each other, especially now that Merlin was a member of their family.  That made the Time Lord one of the Harkness-Jones clan as well, and he knew, if he ever asked, he’d be as welcome as his own son had been. 

Gallifrey might be gone, but that didn’t mean that the Doctor was alone anymore, even if he acted like it most of the time. 

Still, there was a very small part of him that wished there was another Time Lord out there who wasn’t his only son.  Even if it was his sworn enemy.

“You can’t,” he denied. “Even if there was a way to trigger a regeneration, there’s nothing of the Master left.  I made certain his body was cremated.”

“That’s where you’re wrong.”  Lucy sat on the floor in front of him, her dark eyes intent.  “That’s why we’re here…to retrieve something that will make bringing Harry back possible.” She gestured behind her.  Her companion had finished up wiring the case, and was now watching them avidly, his own dark eyes on the back of her head, and the Doctor wondered if he was trying to drill a hole there just with the power of his stare.

“Back when Harry was murdered,” she went on, “Torchwood confiscated a ring that he was wearing.  It had been a gift from Richard Lazarus, and contained a biodata print of Harry’s DNA.”

The Doctor remembered that ring, but he hadn’t thought anything of it at the time.  He’d considered it an affectation, but now he was beginning to realise he was wrong.  Richard Lazarus had been dangerous and unstable, and his experiments had nearly destroyed a lot of people.  He’d believed he’d conquered human mortality, but in the end he’d only killed himself.

Still, it was in Torchwood’s hands, which he did consider safe ones.  “I’d like to know how you intend on getting it back then.”

Lucy waved that comment off.  “We’ll get to that when it’s time.  But for now, we’ll have the second part of the resurrection puzzle – “

“Coulson’s awake,” the man interrupted.

The Doctor looked over to see Phillip’s eyes were open.  Their usual blue was almost white, and the Time Lord realised it was his ice magic trying to manifest. 

However, there appeared to be something wrong.  He wasn’t feeling the chill that would telegraph the magic erupting, and Phillip was obviously bothered by it, but was hiding that emotion behind a mask of bland affability as he glanced up at the man, awkwardly sitting up.

“It took me a moment to figure it out,” he drawled, “but now I see the resemblance.  Grant Ward, I presume?”

The man smirked.  “It’s nice to know you remember me after all this time, Coulson.”

“How could I forget the HYDRA traitor that nearly killed his friends?”

Well, this wasn’t good at all.  If what Phillip was saying was true – and Lucy’s friend had just confirmed it – this man was the reincarnation of the HYDRA mole that had been on Coulson’s SHIELD team, the one he’d been assigned after his ‘death’ and before Coulson had become Director.  While the Doctor hadn’t been involved in anything having to with SHIELD, he did know the organisation’s history, and if Grant Ward had teamed up with Lucy Saxon things were about to get very ugly indeed. 

Ward simply shook his head. “You don’t know anything about it.”

“I know enough,” Coulson growled. The Doctor wondered just how much of those past events Phillip really could recall, although Ward must have made enough of an impression for Phillip to still have sharp enough memories of him.  “And now you’re back, and working to bring back a despotic maniac who would happily destroy worlds on a whim.”

Ward looked amused.  “Well, when you put it that way…”

Lucy, though, was incensed. “How dare you!” she shouted.  “You weren’t there!  You didn’t see the beginnings of the Empire my Harry would have built, only to have it ruined before it could even start!”

“I wasn’t there, true,” Phillip answered calmly.  The Doctor had to admire him for that.  “But I did hear stories, and the files as well as the original databanks that Cherry Blossom had made of that time are still very much a part of the Torchwood mainframe.  Actually, I was there…I just don’t remember it, since it was erased when the paradox was ended.  And if you think you’re going to get within orbit of Hubworld in order to attempt to get that ring you are very much mistaken.”

“That’s where you come in, _Director_ ,” Ward said, making the title sound like a curse word.  “You have no idea how happy it made me when I found out that the original Phil Coulson, Director of SHIELD, was an immortal and was now in charge of the very organisation we want to get access to.  And you just walked in here, without any sort of back-up…it’s perfect.”

The Doctor was insulted by how Ward just dismissed him…but, at the same time, there really wasn’t a lot he could do about this situation.

“You do realise you’re going to have to kill me forever before I let you get onto Hubworld.” In that moment, Phillip Coulson-Jones sounded very much like every single one of his dragon in-laws.  The Doctor thought it was very impressive indeed, what with him not being one and all.

“I don’t think it’ll come to that.  I think it’ll just take doing to you what you approved to have done to me.”

Phillip’s face was stony at the threat.  He wasn’t reacting at all to it, and the Doctor had to wonder just had been done to Ward to make the immortal go so expressionless.

He got his answer quickly.

“I authorised the mind probe,” Phillip said, his voice flat, “because we needed to know what you knew about HYDRA.  I wasn’t about to let you use someone I cared about just because you wanted to play mind games with her.”

Ward’s eyes flashed with anger.  “I loved Skye – “

“No, you didn’t,” Phillip answered implacably.  “You wanted to get close to her, in order to convince her to let you go.  And, after what you did to Fitz and Simmons, there was no way I was going to allow that.  I will _always_ protect those I care about.”

The Doctor wasn’t so sure about using a mind probe on anyone, but at the same time he could understand wanting to protect someone.  It seemed like this was something Phillip definitely was remembering, now that he’d recognised Ward from the faded memories of the 21st century. 

Needing to get things back on track, the Doctor cut into what was most likely going to degenerate something nasty.  “And just what is this ‘second piece of the puzzle’?”  He jerked his chin toward the cabinet.  “Are you sure you’re not going to damage it by blowing things up?”

“Oh no,” Lucy assured him.  “The Darkhold is practically indestructible.”

At that name, Phillip truly reacted.  His face went pale, and once again the ice flared in his eyes without any physically appearing.  “You can’t use that book,” he exclaimed.  “How did you even know about it?”

“I did some research,” Lucy said proudly, as if she was pleased by Phillip’s horrified reaction. 

“What is the Darkhold?” the Doctor demanded.  He hated being out of the loop on anything, and this Darkhold had to be dangerous if Phillip was acting this way.

“It’s an ancient source of every dark magic spell in existence,” Phillip answered, his voice shaky.  “I remember…SHIELD ran across it, and it was used to almost destroy a large chunk of the United States.  I confiscated it, and turned it over to Torchwood for them to bury it deep within their Archives.”  He frowned.  “How did it get here?”

“You should be thanking Merlin for that,” Lucy crowed.  “When the Library was first proposed, he had it moved here, thinking it could be better protected.”

“I thought all the books here had been especially printed by the Lux family,” the Doctor countered.  Why on Gallifrey would his son move a potentially destructive book to the Library?  The Torchwood Archives should have been the best place for it, if it couldn’t be destroyed. What had possessed Merlin to do such a thing?

“So you _did_ kidnap Merlin,” Phillip pounced, his voice sharp. 

“Of course we did,” Ward rolled his eyes.  “For someone supposed to be that powerful, he certainly was easy to trap.  And he couldn’t stand up to the mind probe.  He told us everything.”

“I claim the Rite of Vengeance,” the Doctor suddenly found himself saying, not sure where the words were coming from but not really caring.  “I claim the Rite of Vengeance for what you’ve done to my son.”

Phillip nodded in solidarity.  “So mote it be,” he said, ritually sealing the vow.  Then he looked back at the pair.  “Where is he?”

“That doesn’t matter,” Ward answered.   Neither Lucy nor Ward looked overly impressed by the Doctor’s pronouncement. 

The Doctor might have been tied securely, but he meant every single word of his vow.  In that moment, he completely understood why Ianto had done what he had to the Master, when he’d judged him guilty of crimes against his mate and his world.  The Time Lord was filled to the brim with so much rage and pain that they’d tortured his _son_ , maybe even killed him, and everything within him was screaming that this could not stand. 

“If he’s dead,” Phillip snarled, “there will be nowhere in this universe either of you will be able to hide.”

“Once Harry is back” Lucy promised, “you won’t be able to do a thing about it.”  She rose to her feet gracefully.  “Grant, darling, if you would do the honours?”

“It would be my pleasure.” Ward smirked as he activated the explosive device.

 

 


	16. Chapter 16

 

**_1 September 5192 (Earth Standard Date)_ **

**_Gliese 581g_ **

**_Hubworld_ **

****

“Second Jones.”

Melinda May didn’t seem all that surprised to see him.  Ianto had to wonder why that was.

“Second May,” he greeted.  “This is Suzie Costello.”

Melinda blinked, which for her was almost a gasp of surprise.  “The reincarnation?”

Why it didn’t shock Ianto that Melinda knew who that was he had no idea.

“That’s right.” 

Suzie was standing, looking uncertain. “Nice to meet you,” she murmured, clearly intimidated.

That was something different about this Suzie Costello; she wasn’t as in-your-face and proud about it than the original.  Ianto had to wonder if it had something to do with the darkness that had once been within her, and decided he really didn’t care all that much to know. 

Melinda was seated at the Director’s desk, and anyone else wouldn’t have noticed the faint air of uncertainty that radiated from her. 

But where was Phillip?

He asked.

Melinda’s eyebrows arched downward into a frown.  “You mean you don’t know?”

“I wouldn’t have asked if I did.”  He kept the words civil, but the barest hint of sarcasm couldn’t be held in.

“Point taken.”  She folded her hands and rested them over the section of the desk where the keyboard was recessed.  “I was simply surprised that Director Harkness hadn’t informed you, that’s all.”

Something was seriously wrong.  The last thing he’d heard from Jack had been that he’d gotten asked to consult on a project for Torchwood, and was going to be working from home.  He hadn’t been there when he and Suzie had arrived, but he’d just assumed that Jack had gotten called to the Tower for some reason.

Now, he wasn’t so sure.

“What did Jack not tell me?” He couldn’t get angry at her, this wasn’t Melinda’s fault that Jack had gone and done something behind the dragon’s back.

“About four days ago,” she explained, “Director Coulson received notification of a Director Level event.  He went to investigate – I don’t know where, so it doesn’t do any good to ask me – and he hasn’t been seen since.”

No.  This was bad.

Ianto had decided to come to Phillip after Suzie had told him about Grant Ward.  It had taken him a few minutes, but he’d recognised the man from SHIELD’s history as having been a HYDRA plant assigned to Coulson after Phillip had been brought back from the dead.  The dragon could recall offering to let Phillip use the mind probe to get information from him, and in fact he, Jack, and Toshiko had gone to SHIELD’s then-base to use it on him themselves.  Ward had given up a lot of information, including some about Phillip’s protégé at the time, and it had led to that entire Inhumans thing. 

He also remembered lending Josh Gates to help out when all the clues had led to an ancient city, since he’d been a trained archaeologist and knew his way around lost cities.

They’d gotten him back, changed. 

Anyway, none of that had had anything to do with Grant Ward.  He’d been locked up in a UNIT prison, with no chance of ever getting out.  Ianto was certain he’d died there as well…or had it been in a regular prison, after Torchwood had eventually shut down UNIT in the old UK?

But, Melinda had been with that original team.  She’d know exactly what he was talking about.  And he had to trust Jack to do whatever he needed to do in order to find their son-by-mating, although there was a part of him that was wondering if this wasn’t connected in some way. 

It didn’t help that the Tarot Girl had also intimated so much with her card reading, and her bringing Suzie along with her.

“Melinda,” he said softly,” tell me about Grant Ward.”

If anything, her usual impassive face grew even more blank.  She leaned back in the chair, swivelling it a little so that she could look out of the large picture window behind the desk.  “Why bring him up?” she asked tonelessly.

Ianto explained to her what Suzie had told him, about Ward approaching her about the glove that had, eventually, led to Suzie’s death.  He could tell his companion was still unsettled about the entire thing, and he rested a hand at the small of her back to calm her.  Suzie leaned into the touch, and the tension left her shoulders.

When he was done, Melinda actually looked haunted.  She’d been the first of Phillip’s trusted Bus team to come back; there had been a couple of others, in fact Fitz and Simmons worked up in the science division now, and Melinda herself managed to keep Phillip grounded in a way no one else who didn’t know his history had been able to do.  Ianto knew he relied on her to refresh those memories he needed to access, as she was closer to them that he was. 

And now, the dragon was telling her that someone who’d once been close to that team was back, and was asking questions he shouldn’t know to ask.  It had to have been raking up all sorts of bad memories for her.  Ianto hated to do it, but they needed to know, and speaking to Melinda would be a start.

She opened her mouth to speak, but the door chimed, signalling someone wanted entrance.  For a second Ianto thought Melinda was going to ignore it, but then she pressed the control that would unlock it, calling out to whoever it was on the other side to come in.

The man who entered was human, middle-aged, of average height, with dark hair and pale eyes.  He was a bit stocky, as if he didn’t keep himself physically active, wearing the usual Torchwood uniform tunic and a pair of grey trousers, comfortable shoes on his feet.  He would have been handsome if it weren’t for a certain jowliness and the obsequious manner he exuded. 

There was something about him that had Ianto wondering if he’d ever met him before.

The man’s eyes widened as he realised that Melinda wasn’t alone.  “Second May!” he exclaimed nervously. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were in a meeting.”

Melinda waved his apology away.  “It’s fine.”  She made the introductions.  “Nathanson, this is Second Jones, and his…friend, Ms Costello.  Second Jones, this is one of my Archivists, Andrew Nathanson.”

Ianto hadn’t thought it possible, but Nathanson’s eyes got even wider.  “It’s a pleasure, Second Jones!” He reached out, grabbed Ianto’s hand, and pumped it vigorously.  “I can’t believe I’m meeting the person responsible for creating our Archives!  Oh, this is a real honour!”

Ianto extracted his hand from the man’s grasp as gently as he could.  “It’s good to meet you as well, Archivist Nathanson.”

“What can I do for you, Nathanson?” Melinda asked gently, and Ianto could tell she really wanted to just bundle him out of the office and get on with what they had been discussing, even though her face had settled back into its usual impassivity.

“That courier you were expecting is on Platform Twelve,” Nathanson answered.  He still looked as if he was suffering from a near-terminal case of awe, but at least he wasn’t stuttering. That would have been embarrassing. “He needs your authorisation for the delivery.”

“Please head down there and let them know I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

“Certainly.”  With a head bob that made the dragon dizzy to watch, Nathanson left the office, closing the door behind him.

Melinda sighed.  “He couldn’t have called up over the comms for that?” She stood.  “I need to take care of this.  I won’t be long.  In the meantime, I would assume that you wouldn’t mind some coffee.  Oh, and perhaps a look into the Director’s files.”  With that last parting shot, Melinda was out the door, and the sound of the lock engaging sounded over the silence that had descended.

Ianto chuckled.  “Well, that was a lot less subtle than usual.”  He took the seat recently vacated, and logged into the Torchwood mainframe.

The mainframe had once been the same one that had powered Torchwood Three.  When he and Jack had moved Torchwood to Gliese 581g, they’d transplanted the organic, self-aware crystalline computer with them, unable to leave her behind.  Mainframe had grown even larger throughout the caverns below Torchwood Tower, wrapping around the Archives and penetrating into the roots of the mountains that surrounded the city.  Ianto had no real idea how large mainframe was now, but after so long she had to be impressive.  Her intelligence had grown as well, and while Ianto didn’t have proof he was fairly certain she was now totally sentient.

Jack had long ago shared the Director Level codes with him, but the dragon knew that, even with that permission, if mainframe didn’t want him to get in, he wouldn’t.  There had been a mess with the Director that had been in charge just before Arthur, when mainframe had decided not to like him.  That Director had lasted three months before Arthur had taken over.  Mainframe had adored him and Merlin, but then Merlin had been fond of speaking to her when he’d been down in the Archives.  The dragon had been certain that several members of staff had considered Merlin touched in the head, holding complete conversations with himself.

Merlin had simply smiled enigmatically and gotten on with it.

Mainframe was cooperating today.  Ianto was able to get into the Director files, and found one that was flagged.

As he read, he became more and more worried. 

“That doesn’t look good,” Suzie commented.  He glanced up, seeing her in the visitor’s chair, her dark eyes scrutinising him.

He was aware of what his expression read like: shock and worry at what he’d just seen on that computer screen.  This was what Phillip had been investigating, and it already added to the puzzle pieces in his mind. 

He still couldn’t see the completed picture, but it was there, and he just needed a little bit more for it to come into focus.

“Is it that bad?” Suzie pressed.  She held up a hand.  “No, you don’t have to say it.  I can tell.”

He debated on telling her what he’d been reading.  This was Director Level, and Suzie wasn’t even Torchwood any longer. 

But the Tarot Girl had brought her to him for a reason, and a part of that reason had been for her to tell the dragon her story.  It couldn’t be coincidence that she could recall her former life now, at this time, and really Ianto had long ago given up on accepting that coincidence even existed. 

The Vashta Nerada attacked.  The Library breached. 

Phillip and the Doctor had been missing for four days; Merlin, for longer.  Phillip had asked Sabrina to check in on what had happened on new Avalon, and from the notes Jack had left he’d already informed Arthur about what was going on.  Ianto figured they were either on New Avalon, or they’d gone on to the Library.

Although, he hoped his mate would have informed him first before going somewhere so inherently dangerous.  If he hadn’t, they were going to have to have words.

“Look,” Suzie said, “working for Torchwood meant that I always knew you and Jack kept secrets.  If this is one of those times, I’ll understand.”  One side of her mouth went up in a teasing smile.  “I won’t say I’m happy about it, because of my natural need to know things, but I will understand.”

Ianto couldn’t help but laugh.  He and the Suzie might not have necessarily gotten along back in the day, but now he found he quite enjoyed her company. 

He was about to speak when the intruder alarm went off.

 

 


	17. Chapter 17

 

**_1 September 5192 (Earth Standard Date)_ **

**_Gliese 581g_ **

**_Hubworld_ **

 

The dragon was up and out of the chair before he even was aware he was moving.  Not having an official comm at the moment, he slapped the intercom unit on Phillip’s desk.  “Ianto Jones, authorisation code -one-nine-zero-eight-seven-nine-delta-gamma-two.  Report.”

The connection activated, and a voice came over the speaker.  _“Second Jones, we’ve had a breach in the Archives, originating from Platform Twelve. We have security enroute – “_

“I’m on my way.” 

This wasn’t a coincidence, either.  Melinda had just gone to the very location where the breach had taken place.  She must have walked right into it, and while Melinda May could take care of herself, there was no telling what sort of firepower the intruders had.

“I’m coming with you.”

Ianto shook his head as he came around the desk.  “Suzie, you’re not Torchwood – “

“What did Jack always say?  Once Torchwood…always Torchwood.  I might be out of practice but you need back-up.”

“But I’m – “

“A dragon?  That doesn’t mean someone shouldn’t be watching your back.”

He didn’t have time to argue. 

Ianto was out of the door, and to the lift as quickly as he could run, Suzie keeping up with him.  There were people moving around them, getting to their action stations as they’d all trained for.

The lift was clear, and Ianto used his override codes to send it down to the Archives without stopping.  Platform Twelve was one of the loading docks that were just off the main level of the Archives, where deliveries were made of artefacts that had been earmarked for Torchwood.  Those were usually the most dangerous items, as well as things that had fallen through various Rifts throughout the Human Empire.  It was still Torchwood’s responsibility to monitor all those Rifts, and as they took their jobs very seriously the loading areas of Hubworld were usually fairly busy.

The dragon ran past those Archivists who weren’t trained for this sort of incursion, and were making their way toward safe areas.  A security patrol had set up a perimeter around the dock area, and Ianto sought out the person in charge.

It was a blue-skinned Kree who commanded the patrol.  He greeted Ianto with a salute.  “From what we’ve been able to find out, Second May was ambushed just as she was heading into Platform Twelve.  We still don’t know what they were after, but…Second Jones, it was Director Coulson’s codes that got them as far as they did.”

That wasn’t good.  There wasn’t much of anything that could have forced those codes out of Phillip, and Ianto didn’t want to even imagine what his son-by-mating had gone through for him to divulge those codes.  “Then what triggered the alarm?”  Phillip’s access level shouldn’t have done that; his codes were valid for anywhere within the Tower.

“As far as we can tell at this time, one of the codes was incorrect,” the Kree answered.  “It set off a partial lockdown in the docking area.  Unfortunately, Second May and one of the Archivists are trapped inside with whoever it was who broke in.”

“Do we have anything on who it was?”  At least Phillip had been able to give them bogus information. 

He wondered if Phillip had been killed for good.  And what about the Doctor?  Yes, he and the Time Lord hadn’t gotten along for the longest time, but they’d since made up and the Doctor was a part of their family now.  The dragon didn’t appreciate the way the Doctor didn’t come and see Merlin more often, but he also understood grief, and Merlin was a reminder of just what the Doctor had lost when River had been killed. 

“Nothing,” the commander said, frustrated. “The cameras have been disabled.  I’m going to order a strike on the outside door – “

“No, let me do that.”

“Second Jones…”

“I can fly there a lot more stealthily that any cruiser you might send,” Ianto pointed out.  From what he knew of the dock, it was a large area with plenty of room for the dragon to manoeuvre around in.  Besides, Phillip would have words with him if he allowed his Second to be killed so soon. 

He wasn’t about to even consider now that Phillip was dead.  He had to get the man back to his pregnant mate.  They had three children, and one on the way, and Ianto didn’t want to be the one to tell any of them that their father wasn’t coming home.  And this could kill Clint as much as the Dragon Killer would, Ianto just knew it.

Clint had lost Phillip enough times.  It wasn’t going to happen again.

They needed to know how the intruders had gotten those codes.  Ianto wanted to wreak his vengeance upon the ones who must have tortured them from Phillip, and to do that he needed to get into that dock.

The security commander nodded.  “You’re right, Second Jones.”

“Ianto…”

He turned to Suzie, who looked afraid.  He realised it was for him, and he was touched by it.  He reached out and took her hand. “I’m going to be alright,” he reassured her.

The fear left her face, and fierceness replaced it.  “Get them, Second Jones.”

“I intend to.” 

Suzie hugged him just as fiercely as her expression.  “I just got you back,” she whispered in his ear. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.”

He pulled away.  “Commander, make certain Ms Costello is out of the line of fire, just in case.”

“I will, Sir.”  He put a hand on Suzie’s shoulder.  “Ms Costello, if you’d stay with one my people…” He motioned toward one of the black-clad guards, and the woman – a Margath – stepped forward.  “Corporal Volan, if you would…?”

The corporal saluted, then held out one webbed hand.  “Ms Costello…?”

Trading one last look at his new friend, Ianto was heading down the corridor toward the exit. 

He had work to do.

 

**********

 

The dragon flew around the Tower, catching the thermals, his sharp eyesight looking for the entrance to Platform Twelve.

It was fairly simple to find.

On what was the planetary east side of the building, at the base of Torchwood Tower, Platform Twelve was one of the docks that was primarily set up for land vehicle offloading.  The stubby dock jutted outward, in order to give various types of lorries a place to park as their cargo was being removed, or sometimes picked up.  The large, metal door was closed, but Ianto knew he could open it easily without his personal codes.  Not even blast-proof metal could withstand an angry dragon’s claws when he was motivated.

And Ianto was, indeed, motivated.

He came to a graceful landing on the permacrete ledge.  The vehicle area was empty, and he was concerned that the intruders had already left.  That didn’t bode well for the people within; Melinda, as well as her Archivist and the crew that would have been assigned to the unloading.  There were also support staff that might have been trapped as well.  He would have to be very careful not to put any of the innocents in the line of fire.

Best to draw any attention to himself right away, and trust Melinda to help the employees.  If she was still alive, but then Second May was one of the toughest humans Ianto had ever met.  He could rely on her to do what needed to be done.

Of course, that was predicated on Melinda May still being physically able to do anything.

There was no recourse.  Ianto had to get in there, and the best way to make the biggest noise was to do it by tearing his way into the platform.  He needed to get the intruders’ attention on him, and away from any of the innocent employees that might have been within.

Rearing back onto his haunches, the dragon extended his claws, ramming them into the metal gate.  He had to hit the door twice before his talons penetrated, and with an unholy screech the door was yanked out of its frame.

With a flex of his powerful front legs, the dragon tossed the door aside, and made his way into the enormous bay. 

The place seemed to be empty.

Ianto might not have seem anyone, but his other senses were stronger than a normal human’s, especially in his natural form.  He could definitely smell blood, and ozone, and feel the faint sensation of leftover energy, as if someone had set off a sonic disrupter within the platform.

Platform Twelve was lined with heavy-duty metal shelving, several crates taking up space at intervals.  A lifter was parked by a recharging unit, and another was in the middle of the bay, as if it had been prepared for use and then its driver had suddenly abandoned it. 

There was a body on the other side of the lifter.

The dragon looked at it with sad eyes.  The being – a Terran Reptile – was wearing a Torchwood badge, and had obviously been killed by the blaster he’d sensed.  Poor being…he would make certain their family would be notified that they’d been killed in the line of duty, although he knew from experience that would be cold comfort indeed.

He followed his nose, and found the source of the blood scent.

It was Melinda May.

Luckily, she was still alive, and was in the process of regaining consciousness.

“You know,” she said drily, struggling to sit up, “you’re not exactly something a person wants to wake up to…luckily for me, I know who you are.”

The dragon grinned.

“And that smile is very frightening.”

The dragon let her use his leg to help herself to her feet.  “Can you tell me what happened?”

“I was ambushed.”  She reached up to touch her forehead, where the blood was oozing from a cut at her hairline.  “It was Nathanson.  He got me down here and then hit me.”

Once Melinda looked steady enough to stand on her own, Ianto triggered his change back to human form.  “Was he alone?”  They would need to get the cameras back online, and hope there was a recording somewhere of events. 

As far as Ianto could tell, they were alone, except for the corpse of the Terran Reptile.  “There was one other.  A man, but I only caught his shadow.  I can only guess that Nathanson let him in.”

“Melinda…they used Phillip’s codes to get into the system.”

Melinda froze.  Her face went deadly.  “And Phillip vanished four days ago.”

Ianto grinned, knowing his expression was feral.  “We’ll get him back, Melinda, and no one will stand in our way.”

Her own smile matched his. “Count on it.”

 

 


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little warning on this chapter. Some bad things happen. Really bad things. Just so you know.

 

**_31 August 5192 (Earth Standard Date)_ **

**_The Library_ **

**_(One Standard Day Previously)_ **

****

The thing with being a Time Lord was that they did have an excellent sense of time.

The problem with being a Time Lord was that they did have an excellent sense of time.

It was how he knew that Phillip had been screaming for nearly two days.

How a human throat could make those sounds for so long was horrifying. 

Ward had tied Phillip to a chair, and then had fetched the mind probe, as Lucy had taunted the pair of them.  She’d given up on trying to convince the Doctor to join with them without even elaborating on her idea of revenge, which was a disappointment as he’d hoped to rebuff her efforts after she’d done a bit of monologuing.  It would have been something to pass the time.

For the first hour of the torture, the Doctor had tried to bargain with them to let Phillip out of the machine.

It hadn’t worked.

The second hour, Ward had started using physical means in order to convince Phillip to give up the codes.

That hadn’t worked, either.

The screaming had actually started during the third hour.

The Doctor wondered just how much pain Phillip could deal with.

Then he recalled the procedure that had brought him back to life. 

As it turned out, the immortal could deal with _quite a lot_.

It was the original formula, the GH325.  It was allowing Phillip to regenerate both his physical and mental injuries fairly quickly.  There would come a time when it wouldn’t be able to keep up, and the damage would accumulate. 

That was what had the Doctor very worried.

Phillip could take a lot of punishment.  And he had, many times in the past.  But nothing like this.  He was trapped within the mind probe, and it was burrowing deep into his brain, trying to pull out the codes that Lucy and Ward wanted.

And yet, Phillip was fighting them.

The thing about a mind probe was that it couldn’t be fought.  At some point, it would get past all of those formidable mental defences that Phillip had, courtesy of his own strength of will and the GH325, and the Doctor was quite honestly frightened that he wouldn’t be able to heal from that sort of catastrophic damage.

It went on…

Fourth hour, and he lost control of his bodily functions.  Ward thought that was hilarious.

Fifth hour.

In the sixth hour, Ward got bored and left the room. 

He didn’t come back until the eighth hour.

By that time, Phillip has screamed his voice out.

He sat there, bound into the comfortable chair by so many ropes he resembled a mummy, his mouth open, nothing coming out. 

The Doctor wasn’t even certain he was breathing.

The ninth hour, his voice suddenly came back.

The tenth hour, Lucy seemed to lose interest.  She and Ward had sex against one of the unbroken cases while the Doctor watched.

Honestly, what was it about this millennium and its lack of shame?

But what bothered him more was the fact that they seemed to get sexual gratification at Phillip’s agony.  It sickened him.

The eleventh hour had Lucy reading the Darkhold. 

The Doctor, while not being magical himself, could actually feel the build-up of power in the room as she read, the pages flipping faster and faster as she turned one after another, completely absorbed in what was on those cursed pages.

He didn’t at all ignore the fact that the writing on the cover was in Gallifreyan.  Which was impossible considering it was a book that originated on Earth.

At least, he thought it did.  Or maybe it had a version of the translation circuits, like the TARDIS? 

He didn’t know a thing about the Darkhold, beyond what Phillip had told him…and that was far too little.  It was a book filled with dark magic, and that was it.  The Doctor needed to know more, and he was hoping he could get Lucy to tell him.

It would get his mind off his friend and those terrible screams.

The first time he attempted to ask about it was in the twelfth hour.  Ward had slapped him to shut him up.  Then he’d slapped Phillip for good measure.

Not that Phillip would have even noticed, so lost in his agony as he was.

It wasn’t until the sixteenth hour that he had another chance.

That left the thirteenth and fourteenth hours. 

The Doctor had to suffer through those in silence, but that wasn’t nearly as bad as what Phillip had to suffer through.

And in the fifteenth hour the immortal lost consciousness.

The Doctor was pitifully glad of it.

However, it pissed Ward off.  He tried to get Phillip to awaken by the simple expedient of beating him, and then left in a huff, saying he was going to get the resuscitator from their ship. 

That left him alone with Lucy again and, without the screaming that had left his ears ringing, he posed his question once more.

This time, Lucy answered, as she cradled the large book in her arms as if it were a child.

“The Darkhold contains every dark spell ever written,” she answered, her voice somewhat dreamy, as if she was lost in her own thoughts.  “In here,” she patted it proprietarily, “is the spell that will let me access the data print in the ring and bring my Harry back from the dead.”

“But what _is_ the Darkhold?” the Doctor insisted.  “Where did it come from?  How did it get here?”

“It’s billions of years old, written by an ancient god.  It was once called the Book of Sins, but that doesn’t really fit it all that well.  It fell into SHIELD’s hands, and then was moved to Torchwood.  Since Merlin was once the Head Archivist, we thought he’d know where it was, since our spy within Torchwood couldn’t find any mention of it in their files because it was above his security clearance.”

This was the first he’d heard they had someone inside of Torchwood.  Phillip was going to be pissed off about that.

If his mind survived the probe, that was.

“So you kidnapped Merlin and used the mind probe on him.” The Doctor’s voice was full of scorn, but he just couldn’t help himself. Having seen what the machine was doing to Phillip, he could only imagine what had happened to his son.

“Of course!  And he told us that he’d had the book sent here.  It was really quite brilliant, if you think about it!  Hiding a book among so many books…no one would have thought to come here!  And then the Vashta Nerada had swarmed, and it became impossible for anyone to come and claim it.”

“Until you killed most of the Vashta Nerada,” the Doctor accused.

Lucy shrugged.  “I can use the lifeforce that I took from them to help bring back Harry.  It was an acceptable sacrifice.”

“Nothing is an acceptable sacrifice!” the Doctor raged.  “The Vashta Nerada weren’t hurting anyone, as long as no one came here!” 

“But I needed to come here to get the book.  Killing them was the simplest solution.”

The Doctor narrowed his eyes.  “How are you that powerful?”  The magical bomb had been enough that Phillip had actually considered that Merlin had been responsible.  The Doctor had seen the readings himself, and he could certainly understand why.

“It was an easy matter to steal some of Merlin’s own power to help me,” she bragged.  “He truly is the most powerful of us all.”

It was becoming more and more apparent that Lucy and Ward had most likely killed Merlin. The Doctor mourned his son, even as he mourned the man in the chair.  Phillip was showing signs of consciousness, and when he woke up the torture would begin once more.

Ward arrived back with the kit. 

The seventeenth hour, the screaming began once more.

Eighteen.

Nineteen.

In the twentieth hour, Lucy left.  The Doctor wondered just how they were managing to avoid the Vashta Nerada that had to have been regrouping in the area.  It was as if neither one of them was afraid of the creatures.

In hour twenty-one, Lucy came back, wanting to know where the Doctor had parked the TARDIS.

The Doctor lied and told her that he and Phillip had come via the teleport.

Instead of going for him, they posed the question to Phillip.

Phillip kept on screaming.

It went on and on. 

Twenty-two.

Twenty-three.

Twenty-four, and the Doctor thought he couldn’t handle it any longer.  Anyone who would continually torture a person like that didn’t deserve any sort of mercy. 

During hour twenty-five, the room suddenly got very cold.

The chair that Phillip had been secured to began to ice over, small crystals forming on the plush material.  One of the ropes snapped as it became too friable under the onslaught. 

Phillip’s magic was breaking free.

The Doctor tensed.  He only had to wait, and both Ward and Lucy had left the room, most likely to have sex again…although why they’d felt the need to do that, he had no idea.  Still, it gave the Doctor hope that they’d stay away long enough for the magic to do its work.

The Time Lord himself was practically hogtied, and wouldn’t be able to help at all.  He could only watch as the ice crept about the room, up and over the screaming Phillip, until it eventually reached the mind probe mechanism. 

It didn’t have a chance to work, however.

Ward came back in, and shot Phillip with an odd-looking gun.

The projectile struck him high on the chest, and the ice stopped its incessant movement.

The Doctor wanted to curse.  Whatever those bullets were, they were some sort of anti-magic, and while chances were they’d do very little physical damage they’d cut off Phillip’s magic as if some sort of switch had been flipped.

Those are what they must have used to capture Merlin, he realised.

It wasn’t until hour twenty-seven that the immortal regained enough of his consciousness for the mind probe to be re-applied.

It was silent until the twenty-ninth hour.

Then the screaming began again.

Hour thirty.

Thirty-one.

Thirty-two.

It was at this point that Phillip began to speak, instead of scream, but it was at a whisper, his vocal cords destroyed.

“Let me die,” he begged hoarsely.

The Doctor shivered at the plea.

This had to have been how he’d been during the travesty that had been the TAHITI procedure.  Phillip, strapped down to a metal table, and in so much agony he was pleading anyone who would listen to let him die.  Hearing that from such a strong person was hearts’ breaking.  How had Phillip’s own friend and boss done such a thing?  Why had he submitted Phillip to this?

In hour thirty-three, Phillip’s vocal cords had regenerated once more.  He’d gone into a litany of the same, screamed, sentence, “Let me die!”

In that moment, the Doctor wished he could.  He wished he could end this man’s suffering.  If he’d had the codes Ward and Lucy had wanted, he would have given them over willingly.  What those two were doing was inhumane, and it was at that moment that the Time Lord once again renewed his Vow of Vengeance, this time for Phillip, who didn’t deserve to go through this again.

Once in a lifetime was enough.  Even when that person was immortal.

Ward had laughed.  Lucy had simply rolled her eyes. 

It was then that the Doctor finally _got_ it. 

During that year with the Master, the Doctor really hadn’t witnessed the mad Time Lord’s torturing of Jack.  Of killing him, over and over, and in as many ways as he could come up with.  There had even been that one time he’d been told that the meat at the Master’s table had been ‘harvested’ from the ‘freak’ down in the bowels of the _Valiant_.  But it had all been somewhat abstract for the Doctor, who’d been held up on the bridge of the airship, and had in many ways been insulated from what was going on down below.

So, he really hadn’t _known_ what Jack had gone through.

If it was anything like what he was seeing now, he understood why Ianto had taken the Master’s life, even though the Doctor didn’t have the deep, emotional attachment to Phillip that Jack and Ianto had.

He’d never take Jack’s – anyone else’s – immortality for granted again. 

The Doctor knew then that, while Phillip might come back from this, he would never be the same.  That this was depraved, and would haunt the Doctor’s dreams for a very long time.  If he could have, he would have gotten up and happily killed Ward for what he was doing to Phillip all in the name of resurrecting the very man who’d done almost the exact same thing to Jack Harkness.

Thirty-four.

Thirty-five.  The Doctor tried to make a deal: he’d get the codes for them if they’d let Phillip go.  There must have been something of the immortal left within the screaming wreckage, because he stopped screaming for a second and then, in a voice that sounded as if rocks had filled his larynx, had demanded that the Doctor shut the hell up and let them get on with it.

It had the effect that Phillip must have wanted: the Doctor pressed his lips together and didn’t say another word.

There was no way he wasn’t going to honour the request, even if it wrecked him as well.

In hour thirty-six, Phillip passed out once more.  Ward tried to bring him out of it, and for about a minute the Doctor thought that the immortal had finally passed. 

However, the resuscitator worked too well. 

The screaming – now a rattling cry that was more of a harsh panting that anything else – started up almost immediately.

Thirty-seven.

Thirty-eight, and Ward was getting seriously bored.  He decided to take it out on the Doctor, but he wasn’t as imaginative as some of the torturers the Time Lord had spent time with in the past.  He’d be sore, and bloody and bruised, but he would endure much like Phillip was doing in some unimaginable way that had the Doctor respecting him more and more, and yet cursing him for fighting the probe in the first place.

Thirty-nine, and Lucy was beginning to truly show her madness.  The screaming was most likely the culprit. 

“Why isn’t he breaking?” she demanded.

Ward was frowning at the question.  “It must be his immortality.  It’s allowing him to fight the mind probe.”

“And how long did you last in it?” the Doctor couldn’t help the taunt.  Anyone else wouldn’t have made it through the first hour; he was well aware of just what such a device was capable of.  The Time Lords had had their own version of it.

“Shut the fuck up!” Lucy shrieked.  She launched herself at the Doctor, catching him across the face with her nails, raking four lines down his cheek. 

She pummelled him with her fists, until Ward pulled her off.  “He’s just trying to get to us,” he soothed her, holding him against his chest.  “He can’t play his mind games with us if we don’t let him.”

The Doctor’s cheek stung, but he was gratified that he could rattle Lucy like that.  Yes, it hadn’t worked on Ward, but that was fine.  He could tell the man was getting impatient, and at some point he was bound to make a mistake.

He just had to be patient, as hard as that was.

Hour forty.  Ward was hungry, and he and Lucy shared some prepared meals even as Phillip was begging once again to die. 

The Doctor wanted to throw up, but there was nothing on his stomach to come back to visit.

At hour forty-one, the Doctor wasn’t sure how both Lucy and Ward were still awake.  Surely, they would have stopped the torture long enough to get a nap? 

Hour forty-two, he realised they’re taking some very powerful stimulants, which explained the lack of sleep.

The Doctor himself wasn’t sleeping out of sheer horror.

He very much doubted he’d sleep much in the next several _years_ , not without nightmares.

Forty-three.

Forty-four.

Forty-five.

It was in hour forty-six that Phillip, finally, broke.

It was almost two days into the pain and degradation.

The Doctor couldn’t help the relief he felt in the moment the first line of code fell from Phillip’s lips.

It took another full hour to milk him of every code he had, because he was having trouble speaking, as well as breathing.  His heart must have been misfiring from all the abuse his mind and body had been put through.

He had to have been very close to death, and it had taken him that far for him to finally give in.

Ward triumphantly removed the mind probe.

Phillip slumped forward, completely and utterly unconscious.

“We have what we need,” he said.  “I’m going to let Garrett know.”

“I’ll come with you,” Lucy volunteered.  “I’m tired of this place anyway.”  She picked up the Darkhold, clutching it tightly. “Leave them here.  They can’t get away.”

“We’ll need to start the next phase anyway,” Ward agreed.  “And, if the Vashta Nerada happen to show up…”

Lucy giggled.  “It would be nice to sacrifice their lifeforce to bring Harry back, though.”

“Then we’ll leave the lights on.”

“I want to sleep in a bed, too.”

Ward wrapped an arm around her waist.  “That is an excellent idea.  I can think of another thing we can do in bed as well.”

He kissed her roughly, and the Doctor barely restrained from making a sarcastic comment.  He wanted them to leave, not have sex in front of him again.  Once was enough, thank you very much.

They did leave them alone then, in the silence of the dead Library around them.  The Doctor was glad of the quiet; the screaming was done at last. 

He looked over at Phillip, hanging limply from the ropes that bound him to his chair.  There was blood caked in his nostrils and ears, testament to the damage his brain must have suffered under the assault of the mind probe.  Bruises mottled his face, and his lip was swollen from the beatings Ward had given him, his clothes torn and soiled from his loss of control. 

His hearts went out to the man.  No one should have had to go through that. 

Phillip’s head moved slightly, and a soft groan floated into the air between them. 

“Phillip?” he called out softly, afraid of what he might see once the immortal was fully conscious.

Another groan, and Phillip was looking right at the Doctor.  His eyes were hazy with pain, but they were aware, and the Doctor let out the breath he’d been holding.  “Doctor?” it was more of a lip movement than any sound, but he could tell that Phillip knew who he was.

“You’re going to be alright,” he said, encouraged.  His now semi-alien biology, the GH325, and the magic he’d accidentally inherited from Loki had done what the Doctor had thought impossible: it had allowed him to make it through the worst session of torture he’d ever witnessed.  And some he hadn’t, his mind going back to Jack’s time on the _Valiant_. 

Rough coughing came from the injured immortal, but then he spoke, his voice stronger.  “I hope they bought it.”

“What?” the Doctor exclaimed. 

A tiny, satisfied smile curved Phillip’s bloody lips.  “Those weren’t the correct codes.”

“You gave…” the Time Lord spluttered in outrage.  “Why couldn’t you have done that hours before and spared me the hearts attack I very nearly had?”

Phillip chuckled, but it descended into another coughing fit.  “I’m sorry…next time I’m tortured for information I’ll try to break quickly and spare your delicate sensibilities.”  His humour faded.  “It was close.  I had to make them believe I’d finally broken.  But I was going to anyway.  It was only a matter of time.”  He rested his head against the back of the chair.  “Thank you, Doctor.”

“Why are you thanking me?” He was confused.

“For not giving in.  I know you wanted to.”

“You were in agony.  I wanted…I _needed_ to spare you anymore.  You’d already been through enough.”

Phillip’s head rose once more.  His eyes were clearer now, and back to that icy blue colour that heralded his magic returning.  “And yet you went along with me when I told you not to bargain.”

“I wasn’t about to denigrate what you’d gone through when you asked me not to.”

He looked so very exhausted, and the Doctor wanted nothing more than to bundle him up in the TARDIS and let him heal for as long as it took.

However, he knew that wasn’t possible.  They needed to stop Lucy and Ward from enacting their plan.  “Do you think you might be able to use your magic to get us out of here?”

“You’re going to have to give me some time to regenerate my power,” the immortal admitted painfully.  “I don’t know what Ward shot me with, but it’s muffled my abilities.”

“Take your time,” the Doctor encouraged, even though he wanted to be up and moving.  He knew he couldn’t rush Phillip’s recovery, not if he wanted to avoid doing any more damage. 

They still needed to find out what Ward and Lucy had done with Merlin.  If his son was still alive, or if they’d killed him.

Although, from Lucy’s parting words, the Doctor doubted it.  She would need power for whatever ritual they would be performing to bring the Master back to life, and his would have been perfect.  The magical release would be tremendous, and Lucy wouldn’t want to risk not having enough to make the spell a success.

Phillip might have a chance to rest a little.

But they really needed to escape.

All they needed was a plan…

 

 


	19. Chapter 19

 

**_1 September 5192 (Earth Standard Date)_ **

**_Gliese 581g_ **

**_Hubworld_ **

****

Jack came rampaging through the main lobby of Torchwood Tower, Arthur on his heels and with Excalibur in his hand.  Sabrina was at their rear, looking very much like a student, albeit a very dangerous one with a sonic blaster.

When he’d called into the Tower to request more information on this so-called Darkhold, he’d been informed that there had been an attack on the Tower, and that Ianto and Melinda had been involved.  There hadn’t been any other information, and it was with silent agreement that all three of them transmatted to Hubworld immediately.

“Director Harkness!”

The voice calling his name had him halting in his tracks. He speared the receptionist with his best glare, and to her credit she didn’t quail under it.  “I was supposed to tell you that Seconds May and Jones are on the medical floor.”

He nodded sharply, not able to speak around the sudden lump in his throat.  Ianto…in Medical?  That wasn’t something he’d expected to hear.

“He’s fine, Dad.” Sabrina put a hand on his arm. 

Jack had to believe that.

The Medical floor was bustling as the three of them exited the lift.  Waiting for them at the lift was a member of Torchwood Tower’s internal security, still in battle armour with a holstered blaster at his waist.

The man – he would have passed for human if not for his height and sheer muscle mass – saluted as soon as they set foot onto the floor.  “I was sent to bring you to Seconds May and Jones,” he sent, his accent giving him away as Asgardian.  Jack was surprised; it wasn’t very often that an Asgardian left their homeworld unless it was in search of adventure.  Jack would have thought that working for Torchwood in a security capacity wouldn’t have been it.

The trooper led them past examination rooms until they reached one of the private areas near the end of the ward.  The door was closed, and the security guard rapped once and then pushed it open.

The relief Jack felt at seeing his mate standing by the bed nearly took out his knees.  He was over to Ianto in a shot, his arms wrapped around the dragon.  “When I heard you were in Medical…” he whispered into Ianto’s neck.

His dragon squeezed him back.  “Not me, but Melinda got banged about a little.”

Jack pulled back, noticing Phillip’s Second sitting on the bed, being fussed over by a nurse.  She looked vaguely murderous, and Jack thought the only reason she was staying put was because Ianto was in the same room with her.  Despite having been retired for over two thousand years, both Jack and Ianto were still considered a higher rank than anyone else in Torchwood, including the current Director.  They simply never exercised that power.

There was a dermal bonder being used to heal a rather large cut on Melinda’s forehead.  “You alright, Melinda?” he asked.

“Bastard got lucky,” she growled. 

“What happened here?” Arthur demanded. 

“I will have the full report for you in a few minutes,” came a voice from a corner of the room.

Jack glanced in that direction, to see the hulking form of a Kree standing there, wearing the armour and insignia of a commander.

The Kree snapped to attention at the sight of two Directors in the room.  “Commander Mar-Von,” he gave them his name.  “My men are putting together the forensic evidence now, and it should be ready for your perusal shortly.”

“Thank you, Commander,” Jack replied.  He was actually glad to see both Melinda and Ianto under some sort of guard, if the Tower had been breached.  “Can you give a preliminary now?”

“Of course, Director.”  He pulled himself up even taller, if that was possible.  “There was a scheduled delivery at Platform Twelve at 1450 local time.  It did arrive, and was met by the worker assigned to help with the unloading.  From what we have been able to ascertain, the driver of the lorry shot the worker, and then made their way to one of the internal terminals where the intruder attempted to use Director Coulson’s override codes to get into the mainframe.  They did manage to get into mainframe; however, we believe some of the codes were incorrect and it triggered an alarm.  We’re attempting to see if they actually penetrated anything vital, but it looked as if they were trying to access something in the Archives.”

Jack shivered.  For someone to have gotten Phillip’s Director’s codes…Goddess, what had his son-by-mating gone through for them to get the codes from him…

“You said that some of the codes weren’t correct?” Ianto enquired.

“Yes, Second Jones,” Mar-Von confirmed.  “Two of the codes were off by one digit, and that was enough to create the alert from what we can tell at this time.”

Phillip might have been tortured, but he’d had enough wherewithal to mislead his captors.  That knowledge made Jack feel a bit better, but he knew Phillip, and knew he’d have made his torturers pull out all the stops to make him give up that much.  Phillip could take a lot of damage, but Jack did dread what sort of shape he was in now.

He could only hope that the Doctor was still with him.  Phillip was going to need all the help he could get.

That didn’t mean that they hadn’t tortured the Doctor as well…

“Let us know as soon as you have the finished report,” Arthur ordered. 

“Of course, Director Pendragon.”  Commander Mar-Von saluted once more, and then left the room.

Melinda had gone pale, the mostly healed gash on her head standing out against her skin.  But Jack knew it was out of fury, and not weakness.  “I want them,” she snarled.  “To have gotten even partial codes…”

“I know,” Ianto snarled.  “We’ll get them, Melinda.  You have my vow on that.”

She gave him a sharp nod.

“Hello, Jack.”

It was another voice, and Jack cursed himself for losing whatever situational awareness he had.  He spun, and frowned at the sight of an unfamiliar woman who had practically lodged herself in the far corner.   She had dark hair and eyes, and was dressed as a civilian.  Something niggled at the back of his mind, like it was trying to tell him something, but he couldn’t bring it forward.

She smiled tremulously.  “You don’t remember me, do you?” She didn’t sound sad, but resigned, as if she’d been hoping for something and it had been yanked away from her.

“Jack,” Ianto touched his arm, “this is Suzie Costello.”

Jack frowned.  He felt he should _know_ that name…

It came back to him, in dribbles of half-remembered knowledge that had him, once again, cursing his all-too-human mind.

“Suzie?” he tried the name out for size.  Something about a glove, and…

His old team. 

His first team.  The one in Cardiff.

Before he was aware of moving, he had her in his arms, swinging her around in sheer joy. The memories might not all be there, and he had the feeling that their time together had not ended well, but Jack was truly happy to see her. 

He’d long wondered why none of his original team had reincarnated with their memories intact, like so many others had.  If this was the first…maybe others would be coming back as well.

His first family, come back to him at last.

She laughed in his ear.  “Put me down before Ianto gets jealous.”

Jack heard his mate chuckling.  “Better listen to the woman, Jack. She knows what she’s talking about.”

He set her back on her feet.  “Welcome back,” he said warmly.

The smile left her face.  “I just wish it were under better circumstances.”

“Something tells me we need to compare notes,” Arthur commented.  “I get the feeling this has gone beyond a Director Level event.”

Jack had to agree.

 

***********

 

Someone had thought to bring in extra chairs.

Arthur acceded Jack the Director’s desk, as he was the senior Torchwood officer present.  The large holographic table had been turned on, and Melinda was on stand-by, ready to bring up any information Jack might need. 

“Okay,” he said, beginning the meeting, “what do we know?”

“We know now that this didn’t begin with the Director Event,” Arthur began.  “It actually started approximately three weeks ago, when a student at New Avalon named Lucy Cole asked the wrong question and Merlin threatened to expel her.”

Ianto’s eyebrows shot up.  “What did she do that made Merlin want to do something that drastic?”

“Dark magic,” Arthur said forbiddingly.

There was silence for about thirty seconds, then Melinda asked, “What changed his mind?”

“Apparently,” Sabrina answered drily, “she was very good at apologising.”

“Merlin has always tried to see the good in people,” Ianto said.

“He also wanted to keep an eye on her,” Arthur added. 

“We also know,” Sabrina went on, “that, six days ago, he vanished.”

Jack could tell Ianto was angry, but not shocked, at the news, and figured out that his mate must have read the file Phillip had left.

“We suspect this Lucy Cole and at least one accomplice,” Arthur said.  His hand was clenched around Excalibur’s hilt, where the sword had been propped up against his leg.  “We still don’t know how they managed to subdue him and get him offworld, however.”

“This leads us to the Director Level event that Phillip received,” Jack cut in before Ianto could go full dragon in outrage at his family being hurt in any way.  “Four standard days ago, Phillip received a Director Level event…from the Library.”

That earned him several surprised looks, except from Suzie, who seemed confused.  Ianto quickly explained to her what the Library was, and she nodded.  “I heard a story about that, but wasn’t sure whether it was the truth or not.”

“It’s very true,” the dragon said, calming down a bit.  “Torchwood was asked by the Lux family to keep an eye on the place, to make certain there wasn’t anyone stupid enough to risk being eaten by the Vashta Nerada to chase after loot.  The place has been quiet for a while, from what I understand.”

Trust Ianto to know that; he might have retired, but he did still like to prove that he knew everything.

“Should we even be hearing this?” Melinda asked.

“We’re at the point where it doesn’t really matter,” Jack replied, “and to be honest we’re going to need all the help we can get.”

She nodded her understanding.

“The event,” the immortal continued, “was that someone set off some sort of bomb within the Library, killing a majority of the Vashta Nerada…a magical bomb.”

Everyone was completely silent, in varying degrees of shock.  Jack could understand; he’d felt the same way.

“When Phillip called Merlin to consult with him, that was when he discovered that Merlin had vanished.”

“No one noticed before that?” Ianto demanded.

Arthur looked chagrined.  “I should have known something was wrong,” he admitted, “but when Merlin’s engrossed with his students…I’ve just learned to leave him to it.  No one else noticed, either.”

Ianto was mollified by that response.  They all knew Merlin, and he did get completely distracted.

“Phillip was a bit concerned that Merlin had been involved,” Jack said. 

“Why would he be involved?” Suzie wanted to know.

“His mother died there,” Arthur answered that.

Suzie looked apologetic for even asking.  Arthur gave her a smile of understanding, and she nodded.

“Phillip sent me to ask some questions,” Sabrina volunteered.  “I discovered the argument between Merlin and Lucy, and her near-expulsion.”  She stood up and handed over a file to Melinda, who side-eyed it.

“Paper files? Really?”  Melinda was extremely unimpressed.

Still, she began feeding the information into the holo-table as the conversation continued.

“Phillip also sent for the Doctor,” Jack said.  “Since he’s Merlin’s father, and had personal knowledge of the Library, that made sense.  Although I do feel a bit put out that he didn’t call and let me or Arthur know about what was going on.”  He did understand it, though.  Phillip was his own person, and a very independent one at that.  Plus, both the immortal and Arthur were officially retired, and Jack knew that he hadn’t wanted to come to either of them with bad news. Phillip would have wanted to check into things first, before alarming anyone.

“The thing is, both Phillip and the Doctor have been out of contact for days now.”

Suzie raised her hand, resembling nothing more than a school girl wanting to get her teacher’s attention.  “Is this the same Doctor who used to be Torchwood’s number one enemy?”

“That had been Torchwood One,” Ianto answered.  “He’s always been the friend of Torchwood Three, and consequently the entire Institute now.” 

Jack was the only one who heard the, _Even when he wasn’t_ our _friend,_ that had been unspoken.

He should have expected the questions from Suzie.  She was very much out of the loop, and the only memories she had of Torchwood were the ones before she’d committed suicide. 

Well, in a way that was more than what Jack had at the moment, although things were coming back to him.  He did now recall how Suzie had died, and it had not been pretty.

Still, Ianto was apparently trusting her, and that was good enough for him.

“What’s been done to locate them?” Ianto asked.

“Arthur and I have been to New Avalon to try and trace Merlin’s whereabouts.  Luckily for us, Sabrina had a head start and Arthur had the way to get past the wards Merlin had up around his office.  Merlin hadn’t added to the official file why he’d come within days of kicking Lucy out, but it was in his personal files…which Melinda is so kindly entering into the system now.”

“Merlin said that Lucy had been questioning him about a book called the Darkhold,” Arthur finished.

If Jack hadn’t already been looking at Melinda, he would have missed her freezing at the name.  “Melinda?”

She turned from the holo-table.  This was the closest he’d ever seen her look so unsettled.  “I know the Darkhold,” she murmured.

Jack glanced at Arthur.  The file had mentioned that Lucy had been doing research into SHIELD and Torchwood both.  “What do you know, Melinda?” he prompted her.

Torchwood’s current Second took a deep breath.  “Back during SHIELD’s rebuilding, we had to deal with the Darkhold.  It’s a book containing the most evil spells ever written.  Anyone who used it became corrupted by it.  Director Coulson decided that it couldn’t stay on base, and it was practically indestructible, so he asked that Torchwood bury it in their Archives.”

Ianto was nodding, as Melinda’s words struck chords with him.  “Yes, I recall that.  We put it in the Secure Archives, and moved it with us when we had to finally abandon the Hub.  It should be somewhere here, in one of the deepest areas of the Hoard.”

Melinda had turned back to the computer, ostensibly to check to inventory.  When she looked back at them once more, she said, “It’s not in the inventory any longer.”

“How long has it been gone?”  Ianto joined her at the terminal, his own fingers inputting information as Melinda watched.

Jack fought the urge to chew a nail.  What had happened to this supposedly dangerous book that should have been buried so deeply it would never see the light of day ever again?  When had it vanished out of the Archives?

It couldn’t have been during Ianto’s time as Second.  Something so potentially bad as a magical, evil book would have been carefully watched.  His dragon was very careful about such things, having seen just what could happen when an item like that got away from them.

He finally stepped away from the computer, confusion writ all over his face.  “Merlin was the one who removed it from the Secure Archives.  His codes are all over the system.”

 

 


	20. Chapter 20

 

**_1 September 5192 (Earth Standard Date)_ **

**_Gliese 581g_ **

**_Hubworld_ **

 

That made sense.  Jack had been suspecting it, even before the Darkhold had been confirmed as something no one in their right mind would mess with.  “You realise where it is, don’t you?” he asked Ianto, although his voice was pitched to the entire room.

The dragon nodded.  “The Library.” He snorted.  “Where else would you hide a book that could conceivably destroy the world but on a planet full of books?”

“And when the Library became untenable, it became the perfect place.”

“That’s why Merlin was taken,” Arthur said angrily.  “Because he knew where the damned thing was, and they wanted to force it out of him.”  The muscles in his jaw jumped.  “And they must have, if they made it all the way to the Library.”

First Merlin, and then Phillip, and perhaps even the Doctor, being tortured by this Lucy Cole and whatever confederates she had, all because of some book that should never have been written in the first place. 

How many more would become victims? 

Jack didn’t even want to contemplate the answer to that.

“Okay,” Suzie spoke up, “there’s something I’ve noticed about the timing of everything.”

“What is it?” Ianto encouraged.

Her eyes were sharp as she thought.  “Alright, if I’m getting this correctly, this Lucy was threatened with expulsion from the Magic School about three weeks ago.  Two weeks later, she’s forgiven.  Then Merlin is kidnapped.  I’m right so far?”

“You are,” Arthur answered.

“I was approached by this Ward character about two weeks ago…right in that period when Lucy was in trouble with Merlin.  Which means, if they’re in this together…”

“Can we back up a bit?” Arthur asked.  “Just why would this person want to recruit you?”

Suzie looked uncomfortable.  She glanced at Ianto, who nodded his support; and then at Jack, who encouraged her to tell the story; although, he wanted to hear it as much as anyone else, since he could only recall bits and bobs of it.

“I was Torchwood,” she began.  “In fact, I was the first person Jack hired after taking over Torchwood Three.”

Sabrina whistled.  “That was over three thousand years ago.”

“I was with the team for about six years.”

“Why did you leave?” Melinda asked quietly.

Suzie looked a little irritated at the question.  “I committed suicide.”  It was a bit harsher than she might have intended, not that Jack blamed her.

That seemed to shut everyone up.

“There was…this glove.”  Her voice went softer.  “We didn’t know what it was.  I decided to study it…and found out that it could resurrect a person for about two minutes. Only it was dark…really dark, and it corrupted me.  Although now I know there had to have been something within me to corrupt in the first place.”

This silence was more shocked than the first.

“Ward wanted to know about the glove, didn’t he?” Melinda asked. 

“He did.  But somehow, he knew about it before he approached me, and of course he knew who I was.  He wanted to know how long the resurrection powers worked, and when I told him such a short time, he…well, he was disappointed.  But then he tried to recruit me, and I turned him down.  He kept telling me it was my chance to get revenge on Torchwood, but I have no reason to.  What happened to me, I did to myself.”

“You were a back-up plan,” Jack finished for her.  He’d only gotten a barebones telling of how she’d come to be there from Ianto as they’d all come back to the Director’s office for their conference, but from what he had heard it all made sense.  “This man who tried to recruit you is Lucy’s accomplice.”

“Melinda knows Grant Ward,” Ianto pointed out, reaching over and touching her elbow.

Jack could tell that Melinda was furious, but it wasn’t at either Ianto or Suzie.  She knew this Grant Ward, which meant… “Was he a member of that first team?”

Melinda nodded jerkily.  “He was HYDRA.  He betrayed us.”

“He’s a reincarnation too?” Suzie gasped.

“Yes.  He eventually ended up in what had once been a UNIT detention centre, and then to a regular prison when UNIT was shut out.  He died there, as far as I know.”

Jack thought back on that photo of Lucy Cole that he’d seen in Merlin’s notes.  He’d thought he might have seen her before…

Oh, of course.

“Melinda, did you scan that photograph of Lucy Cole into the system yet?”

The current Second of Torchwood pressed a button on the holo-table, and a larger representation of Lucy Cole appeared in the air. 

The language that came from his dragon was some of the worst Jack had ever heard.

“Then I was right in feeling I might have met her before,” he said into the shocked silence that followed Ianto’s outburst.

“Yes, Jack.  In fact, I’m surprised you’ve forgotten her, but then…well, I don’t know if you saw her all that much.”  Ianto was by his side in an instant, leaning against the desk, looking down at him with furious yet sad eyes.  He reached over and took Jack’s hand, holding it in his warm fingers.

“Why do I get the feeling this is really bad?” he tried to joke, but it fell flat. 

“Who is she, Grandtad?” Arthur asked softly, as if he didn’t want to add to the sudden tension in the room yet not being able to help it.

Ianto’s ancient eyes didn’t leave Jack’s.  The immortal’s heart was hammering so hard he was surprised no one else could hear it. 

He suddenly didn’t want Ianto to tell him.  Yet, they needed to know. 

“She’s going by Lucy Cole now,” the dragon sighed, “but you knew her as Lucy Saxon.”

Saxon.

A name that still lived on in Jack’s infrequent nightmares about that time.

He could feel the blood leaving his face in sheer horror.  “Are you sure?” The question came out as a whimper; he simply couldn’t help it.

Jack might have forgotten so very much of his earlier life, but this was something that would haunt him forever. 

“Are you sure?” he heard Melinda echo him as if she was standing a mile away, instead of in the same room.

“I’m positive.”  Ianto was still watching Jack closely, his thumb rubbing across his knuckles, trying to soothe him.  It was working, a little; but then so was the distance of over three thousand years, but the walls that the immortal had built up around that Year had taken a severe hit, cracking badly, letting some of that horror escape into the good life he’d had for so very long.

“Who’s Lucy Saxon?” Arthur demanded.  He sounded somewhat freaked out, and Jack couldn’t blame him since he was feeling the exact same way.

“Tell him,” Jack croaked.  “Tell him, Dragon.”

His mate sighed at the old nickname.  He turned toward the others, but he kept his hand in Jack’s.

“This happened back at the beginning of the twenty-first century,” the dragon began.  “There was this politician, named Harold Saxon.  But he wasn’t a human…he was a renegade Time Lord called the Master.  He was…” Ianto swallowed.  “He was insane.  He captured Jack and the Doctor, and then took over the Earth.”

He fell silent, as if he was gathering his thoughts.  Sabrina cut in at that point.  “I know part of this story.  The reason the Doctor was so angry with you had to do with this Master, didn’t it?”

“It did.  But that came later.”  Ianto took a deep breath.  Jack could tell it was affecting his mate almost as much as it was him, and he squeezed Ianto’s hand in support, pitifully grateful that he was willing to tell this horror story so that Jack didn’t have to.  “The Master created a paradox: he stabilised it by using the Doctor’s TARDIS, and then he brought what was left of the human race from trillions of years into the future back into the past, and set them to decimate the planet.”

Melinda was nodding.  “And, at the end of that Year,” she took up the tale, “the paradox was reversed, and it was as if nothing had ever happened.”  She shrugged, one shouldered.  “I don’t remember it, of course, but there were some who did, and there were files.  Those who were at the heart of the paradox when it was reversed kept their memories of events.”

“And the residents of Ddraig Llyn,” Ianto added.  “The Great Dragons had managed to hide the valley from the Master.”

The muscle in Arthur’s jaw was jumping once more, and Jack as surprised that no one could hear him grinding his teeth in order to keep from saying anything.

Everything that had occurred that Year had been kept on several hard drives that Toshiko had had set up in Ddraig Llyn.  Those hard drives had been downloaded into mainframe, which meant the files and every bit of evidence for it was there, for anyone to read.

Arthur must have seen some of it.  His grandson knew what was going to come next, and wasn’t taking it very well.

Sabrina kept glancing between Arthur, Melinda, Ianto, and then Jack.  Suzie was confused, but then she’d been dead by the time the Master had appeared.  Neither of them didn’t have any idea what they were talking about.

“The Master knew that Jack couldn’t die.”  Ianto’s quite voice was filled with mourning, almost as if he was singing the words.  “He…was a sadist.  He must have killed Jack hundreds…maybe even close to a thousand, times…all in horrific ways.  It was torture, plain and simple.”

Sabrina stifled a sob, and then she was up and out of her chair, around the desk, and was throwing her arms around Jack, clutching at him as if she wanted to save him from the pain that he’d suffered millennia ago.  Jack reached up and patted her shoulder, burying his face in her hair, more than ever grateful for the family that he had; one that he could rely on and who would love him no matter what.

“And this Lucy Saxon was…?”  Suzie snapped.  She was standing there, just behind Sabrina, her hands clenching and unclenching as it she wanted to hit something. 

“She was the Master’s wife,” Ianto told her simply.  “She was driven mad when I killed the Master.  I swore a Vow of Vengeance, and I fulfilled it.”

“Good,” their former teammate whispered.  Arthur agreed with a quiet, “So mote it be.”

Sabrina tightened her grasp, and then let go reluctantly. Her face was set in a fierce mask, her eyes in their dragon aspect.  “He can’t hurt you any longer, Dad.  Tad took care of him.”

And then, like a sudden storm, things slammed into place in Jack’s mind.  “That’s it.”

“What?” his daughter asked, her eyebrows drawn into a confused frown.

“They want to bring him back.”

It made sense.  Everything they’ve learned so far was leaning in that direction.  Lucy and the Darkhold, and wanting to learn about dark magic.  Suzie and her history with the glove. 

It was all about resurrection.

“A life for a life,” Arthur murmured.  “All those Vashta Nerada…”

His grandson was right.  Jack might not know a lot about magic, but he had learned _that_.  It made what he was considering even more plausible.  All of that lifeforce, primed and ready to be used to bring back a despotic madman whose only goal was to destroy the universe.

“But how can they do that?” Suzie demanded.  “Wouldn’t they need the Master’s body for that?”

“The Doctor cremated the Master’s body,” Ianto said.  “As far as I know, there’s nothing left of him to bring back.”

There was a certain relief in that, but Jack still felt he was right.  That this was Lucy’s endgame, to bring the Master back to life in some way. 

“Commander Mar-Von has his final report,” Melinda reported. 

Every eye turned to her, and she stood tall under the scrutiny.  Jack thought this might tell the tale, be the piece of the puzzle they were missing.  “Bring him in,” he ordered. 

Melinda touched the comm in her ear, giving the commander permission to enter the office.  The Kree was a large presence as he came in, saluting both Jack and Arthur. 

As far as Jack knew, Mar-Von was the only member of the Kree race in Torchwood.  It hadn’t been that long ago that tensions between their two empires had been high, although never enough to go to war.  The Kree had come to Earth millennia ago, and had attempted to genetically manipulate the human race, creating the offshoot of humanity that had named themselves the Inhumans.  There had been some hard feelings on that score, even though there never had been all that many Inhumans on Earth.  If Jack remembered correctly, there had been several in SHIELD; there’d even been one in Torchwood. 

The darker secret – which, if Jack were honest, made the human race just a bit hypocritical, even if not all that many people knew about it – was that a Kree body had fallen into the hands of unscrupulous humans who’d done comprehensive testing on it.  What had come from those tests had been but one of the components that had led to Phillip’s immortality. 

Now, however, the Human Empire and the Kree Empire were on fairly good terms, and it really had a lot to do with Phillip’s efforts, and those of Jack’s own daughter, Kaitlyn, a member of the Empire’s Ambassadorial Corps.  They’d both worked hard over the decades to get the Kree to sign an accord with the Empire, and the result was standing there, in Phillip’s office, proud and erect and wearing the battle armour of Torchwood’s inner security.

“Commander,” Jack greeted him, “you have the report on the incursion?”

“Yes, Director.”  He handed a data chip to Melinda, who inserted it into a slot on the holo-table.  “Did you also want a verbal report?”

“Yes, please.”

The Kree’s dark eyes darted around the room, taking in his audience, as if assessing the danger inherent there.  Then his gaze was back on Jack’s, recognising that he was in charge of this debriefing.

“My investigators have confirmed that there was one intruder.  While the security feeds had been cut within Platform Twelve, there was still the outside cameras, which recorded the arrival of a lorry with one driver.  The image is in the report.”

Melinda accessed the security feed picture.  It was a human male with dark hair, but he was turned away from the camera just enough that no one could make out his face. He was wearing non-descript clothing and really didn’t look like much more than a generic lorry driver.

“We were also able to ascertain that the majority of the workers who’d been on duty at the time had been ordered away.  The dead being did not get the message, and was unfortunate enough to have reported for work.”

There was a tinge of anger in Mar-Von’s voice, and Jack couldn’t blame him.  He’d contact the worker’s family as soon as he could, to inform them of their loss.  It was one of the things he had never liked being Director, but he was the one – and Ianto, beside him – who would always let the family of those who’d passed aware of what had taken their loved one away, back when he’d been full-time Director.  Arthur and Merlin had done the same, and Phillip and Melinda had carried on the tradition.

“Who sent the order?” Melinda wanted to know.

“It was Archivist Nathanson,” Mar-Von answered.  “His access codes were on the memo that had gone out.”

“I am going to kill him,” Melinda swore.

Betrayal was never an easy thing, especially when that person had been trusted as Nathanson had been. There was a ghost of something in Suzie’s eyes; she knew betrayal, having committed it herself, and there was an uncertainty in her slumped posture, in that she wasn’t sure she was truly forgiven for what she’d done in her previous life.  He’d have to let her know that she was, to reassure her that she was welcome.

“Do we know which of them was responsible for the killing?” Ianto demanded.  He was as angry as Melinda was. 

To the two of them, the Archives were almost sacred.  They contained some of the most dangerous tech to have come through any of the many Rifts throughout the Empire, held there for safety’s sake.  To know that there was a traitor who had access to the Hoard – the long-ago coined nickname for the Torchwood Archives – was particularly galling to both.

“No, Second Jones,” Mar-Von answered, “but we can make certain assumptions.  The victim was killed using a plasma gun, and as such things are strictly regulated within the Tower, and that none of them are missing from inventory…”

“It was the intruder,” Arthur concluded.

“Yes, Director Pendragon.”

“What about the codes?” Jack asked.

Mar-Von shifted slightly.  “They were confirmed as Director Coulson’s.  Two of the three that were used were valid, except for being one digit wrong.  We have since locked the codes out of the system to avoid re-trying with corrected ones.  The third was the one that set off the lockdown of the Platform and of Archive computer access, and was the emergency code that all Directors have.”

Jack was familiar with that code.  He had one stored on his wrist strap.  It was only used if the Director was in distress, and to Jack’s mind Phillip giving that code to whoever had tried to get them from him meant he was very much in trouble.  As for the first two… “The only way anyone would have gotten those codes out of Phillip was if…” He didn’t want to say it.  The memories of the Master’s treatment of him during that Year had been stirred up too much to even use the word.

No one else send it either, bust Jack could tell they were all thinking it.

Instead, he cleared his throat and asked, “Did you trace what they were after?”

“Yes, Sir.  It was an Archive file, dating back to Old Earth year 2008.” He rattled off a series of numbers, the identification and serial numbers of the file in question.

Ianto was standing.  “This can’t be coincidence.”  He strode over to Melinda.  “If I may…”  She stepped aside, giving him free reign of the holographic table. 

Jack sat forward, watching his mate and wondering what he was up to. That date and I.D. had obviously struck some sort of chord with the dragon, and when a holographic image flashed in the air over the table Jack felt something shift within him.

It was a ring.

It had a large green jewel set in heavy silver, with several of circles in an intricate design across its surface.  It tingled a memory somewhere deep within Jack’s mind, but it wouldn’t come.

“This is the Master’s ring,” Ianto said tonelessly.  “When that Year ended, Torchwood originally took control of the Master’s body, before we passed it to the Doctor.  Jack removed this from the Master’s hand, not knowing what it did.  We never did figure it out, despite everything we could throw at it, so we decided it needed to stay in the Secure Archives.  It, along with the rest of those Archives, were moved here when Hubworld was commissioned.  This is what they were after.”

“Did they get it?” Sabrina wanted to know.

“No,” Mar-Von answered.  “The lockdown was triggered before the traitor and his accomplice could leave the platform.”

“There’s that, at least,” the dragon sighed.  “We need to make sure that ring is under the strictest sort of lockdown.  We can’t risk that getting into their hands.”

“We should also run some more tests,” Melinda suggested.  “If we knew why that ring was so important, it might give us a head start in stopping them.”

“Agreed.”  Jack turned to the Kree.  “Commander, good work.  I want to put you and your people in charge of security for the ring.  Melinda is going to move it to the lab, and we’ll have the science team take a look at it.  Melinda,” he turned to the Second, “I understand you have the reincarnations of your Fitz and Simmons on staff now?”

“We do.  They would be perfect for this, and I trust them implicitly.”

“Then see to it.”

“Do we have an image of this Nathanson person?” Arthur requested.  He was wearing an expression that told Jack he was considering another angle to this plot.

“We do.”  Melinda brought up the file.  The photograph taken of Nathanson on his hiring replaced the ring on the display.

Arthur cursed.

“What is it, son?” Jack asked.

“We have a trifecta of reincarnated souls behind all this,” his grandson answered angrily.  “That man was my uncle, Agravaine.”

 

 


	21. Chapter 21

 

**_Unknown Date and Time_ **

**_Central Data Core_ **

**_The Library_ **

****

The moment River realised that this was her son, and not an avatar that Cal had created, her illusion was dissipated and she found herself back at the house that was the primary node of the Library’s Central Data Core.

Where River ‘lived’ when Cal wasn’t creating exciting adventures for her.

The pair of them stood on the perfectly sculpted lawn of the mansion, and she couldn’t help but drink in his appearance.  Merlin was a bit changed from how she remembered him, and how Cal often recreated him for her to interact with.  Still, the real Merlin had a presence to him that any of the many illusions did not.

She had to hug him.

Merlin wrapped his arms around her, a ragged sob making his entire body quake.  River stroked his hair, trying to soothe him as he wept against her shoulder, the tears feeling more real than anything she’d experienced since the Doctor had arranged to have her consciousness downloaded into the core.  Her own eyes were prickling, River’s chest aching with having missed him more than she’d ever wanted to admit.

She’d had time to think since her ‘death’, and she’d come to the conclusion that she’d spent way too much time away from her only son.  She should never have stayed gone; she should have been with him as much as she possibly could.

But she’d had to have her own adventures, without any sort of ties to love and family.  River had left Merlin with the Harkness-Joneses, knowing they’d take good care of him and that he’d found his mate amongst them.  Merlin had had a destiny, and there had been no room for her in it.

She’d regretted her distance immediately upon realising she’d never see him again, as she’d sat in that chair in the Library, hooking herself up to the Data Core in order to bring the over 2000 people that Cal had ‘saved’ back, knowing that she was going to die in that place.  And that the Doctor – her husband – had known all along as his past self begged her not to do it.

But now, he was there, with her, and River just knew this wasn’t a good thing, even though she was so very happy that he was clinging to her in that moment.

Eventually, he pulled away somewhat reluctantly, rubbing his eyes with one hand while he slid the other down to grasp her fingers.  His eyes were red with crying, and his face was blotchy…but he was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen.

There were some small changes in him, and River realised that he must have regenerated since the last time she’d seen him.  She knew he wasn’t like the Doctor, who changed so spectacularly each time, but could, in some way, control his regeneration so that his features pretty much stayed the same. His black hair was a little shaggier, and his ears a little less protruding – but still fairly large – and his eyes were just a tad bit bluer, the gold around the irises startling. 

But the cheekbones were the same, as was his slender form, but he hadn’t felt like skin and bone.  There was true muscle there, like his father. 

“Hey, Mum,” he whispered, smiling shyly.

She shook her head, smirking fondly.  “I should be telling you that you shouldn’t be here…but I’m so very happy to see you.”  Then she frowned.  “How did you get here, anyway?”

Instead of answering Merlin was looking around at his surroundings.  “Nice change from that jungle you were in.”  He checked out her appearance as well.  “Instant clothes change as well.  Wish I could do that with Arthur; he takes forever to get ready to go anywhere.”

No, River wasn’t going to let him get away with changing the subject.  She gave him her best mother’s glare.  “What’s going on?”

“I…” he swallowed, one hand going up to rub the back of his neck.  “Can’t I just enjoy being with you while I can, without having to worry about what’s going on outside the Data Core?”

He was deflecting, but River really just wanted to spend some time with him, as well, without questioning the reasons why he was there, when he shouldn’t have been able to get past the Vashta Nerada. 

But something was seriously wrong, she just knew it. 

Still, she dragged him toward the house, his hand warm within hers.  He went with her meekly, not giving her any sort of argument.  Which was odd for him as well, because if there was one thing she knew about her son, it was that he’d usually protest being dragged off somewhere, even if it was a place he actually wanted to go.

Besides, if Merlin wasn’t going to tell her what was going on outside in the Library, she could always ask Cal.

The rest of her team would have been scattered about the house, or else off on their own.  One of the things Cal loved doing was giving them their adventures, usually based on books that she had access to.  River loved them; it gave her a sense of freedom within the confines of the Core.  In the back of her mind, she might know she was only a data stream, but it still always felt very real to her. 

That was what she’d been doing when her son had stumbled into the Data Core.  A trip to a jungle; a quest for riches and artefacts; it was almost like being an archaeologist all over again.  It kept her from going stir crazy, even if it wasn’t real.

The mansion where they all lived was enormous.  It often reminded River of the TARDIS: while it was quite large on the outside, inside it was even bigger.  As she crossed the threshold, she called out, wondering if anyone was around; a voice called back, and she grinned as she recognised it as Evangelista’s.

In many ways, death had been an extremely advantageous change for Evangelista.  The Data Core had changed her basic nature, and she was a true delight to spend time with.  To be honest, River hadn’t been all that nice to her back when they’d all still been alive, but it had been more because of her employer, and not the fact that the young woman hadn’t been all that intelligent.  There were different forms of smarts out there, and Evangelista had been very good at her job…even though she had allowed Lux to boss her around a bit too much for River’s taste.

River dragged her son into the lounge off the entryway, pushing him down onto one of the sofas and plopping herself down beside him.  Seconds later, Evangelista came in, and stopped just beyond the doorway, staring at Merlin as if she was seeing him for the first time.  In a way, she was; at least, the real version. 

River had often asked Cal to help her recreate Merlin in various stages of his life.  But River often gave up the interactions when her mind simply couldn’t accept the fact that the illusion was her child.  Even though the core version of Merlin was just as she would always remember him, there was something about him that River just knew was fake. 

She’d eventually stopped torturing herself.

Evangelista stood there, crossing her arms across her chest, raising a rather eloquent eyebrow in River’s direction. 

“He’s the real thing,” was the only thing River could say.

She could tell that startled her friend.  “How did that happen?”

“I’m about to get that story,” River assured her.  “Is Cal around somewhere?”

Evangelista nodded.  “Something’s going on in the Library.  It has her a bit…distracted.”

Cal – real name Charlotte Abigail Lux – was the original mind in the machine, so to speak.  Her father had built the Library for her, and had implanted her mind within the Data Core in an attempt to save at least a part of her.  Cal had eyes and ears throughout the Library complex, even though she’d pretty much given up active surveillance when the last people had left the place to the mercies of the Vashta Nerada. 

River couldn’t blame her.  Knowing that your home had been overrun by a voracious lifeform would have been enough to put that sort of thing off for anyone.

River turned to her son.  “I take it this distraction is why you’re here?”

Merlin shuddered.  He chewed his lip absently – it was good to know he hadn’t lost that little affectation – before he took a deep breath and said, “Yeah, Mum.  You could say that.”

Even as a sentient data stream Merlin looked exhausted.  River reached over and pulled him close, wrapping an arm around him.  Merlin burrowed into her embrace, sighing contentedly.

“I’ve missed you,” he whispered.

“I’ve missed you too.”

River could admit to herself that she’d never been the best mother.  If she was also honest, there had been times after Merlin’s birth that she’d wished she’d never had a child; not because she resented Merlin in any way, but because she was so crap at raising him.  It didn’t help that his father had been just as bad, but then the Doctor wasn’t one to stay still for very long.  They’d tried it, back when Merlin was too young to travel, but the Doctor’s itchy feet had gotten the best of him, and he’d left them for months at a time at Ddraig Llyn.

Things had been a bit different when Merlin got old enough to accompany them in the TARDIS, but it hadn’t lasted very long.  Merlin had wanted to go back to Arthur, and they’d ended up dropping him back off and then not seeing him for centuries in Merlin’s timeline. 

Then, of course, River had ended up in Stormcage, and that had meant she’d seen him even less.

Still, she’d thought he’d had a good life with the Harkness-Joneses and that enormous family.  It had gotten even bigger when River had taken it upon herself to find all those dragon eggs.  She wondered how they were all doing now.  She had no doubt they were thriving.

But, always in the back of her mind, was that niggling voice that kept telling her that she was missing her boy.  River had never acted upon it, and she’d lost her chance when she’d given her life to make certain everyone that Cal had ‘saved’ could be rescued.

What made it worse was the idea that the Doctor had always known, and hadn’t bothered to give her enough of a heads’ up so she could have at least said goodbye when she’d dropped off the baby dragons.

“Alright,” she said briskly, “tell me everything.”

Merlin frowned, but she knew it wasn’t because she was demanding an explanation.  The frown was slightly confused, as if there were things he simply didn’t have knowledge of.

Then he sighed once more, relaxing further into her arms.

“I had this student,” he began.  “She was brilliant, Mum.   She might even have given me a run for my money, power-wise, once she became more confident in her magic.”

That was a shock.  River knew Merlin’s destiny to be the most powerful wizard in the universe, so to have someone nearly match him…

“I…started to notice things.  Troubling things.  And then she started asking me about certain…magicks…”

“What sort of magic?” River, though, felt like she didn’t need to ask, but wanted it confirmed.

“Dark magic.”

Yes, that was what had crossed her mind.

“She asked me about this book.  Called the Darkhold. It’s the most evil book in the universe.  If I could have, I would have destroyed it centuries ago, but it’s indestructible.  The thing was, I’d hidden it where no one would have thought to look.”

River fought back the shiver that threatened to consume her, not wanting to upset her son any more than he already was.  “It was in the Library, wasn’t it?”  It really was an elegant solution, to hide something so dangerous in plain sight.

“Yeah.  It had been in the Torchwood Archives for millennia.  Grandtad Ianto had put it there, but there was something about it…it called, even to me.  So, when Felman Lux began building his Library, I asked him if he could take it on.  He’d already had the idea of creating certain secure areas where more dangerous literature could be stored, so he agreed…but for a price.  He asked me to help him import his daughter’s mind into the Data Core, because the one thing he was missing from the equation was magic.  I was happy to help, Mum; I’d met Charlotte and she was such a wonderful, happy child, and she was perfectly willing to become a part of the Library.  In fact, it was like a dream come true for her.  I never would have helped Felman if Charlotte hadn’t wanted to do it.”

That made sense.  Although she’d been ‘introduced’ to Cal as a Node, there had been something different about her, and that had been confirmed once she’d gotten to know the consciousness within the core.  Cal was absolutely delightful, and an excellent host.  She and Doctor Moon kept everyone within the core happy and would do anything within their power to help.

“Anyway,” he continued, “this student was asking questions about necromancy and resurrection magic, and I had no choice but to expel her from the school.”

Resurrection magic.  Those two words scared River more than anything else.  And yet, there was a very small part of her that wondered if it couldn’t bring her back…not that she would, of course.  She wouldn’t abandon her team on the off-chance that something like that would work.  She also would never have put Merlin into that sort of position.  He was far too good to even contemplate something so inherently evil.

It said quite a bit about her son that he hadn’t considered trying something like that to bring her back.  River might not know as much about magic as she wished she did, but she knew in her very soul that committing such an act – even out of love – would have tainted Merlin forever.

“When the Vashta Nerada infested the Library, I realised they would have been the perfect deterrent for anyone going after the Darkhold.  I thought I didn’t have anything to worry about it any longer.”

“But this student found out.”

“She found out about the Darkhold, yes.”  Merlin began to shake against her, and River held tighter.  It was bothering her, seeing her strong son in such distress.  “She fooled me, Mum.  I started official expulsion proceedings against her, but she came to me and apologised.  And I believed her.”

River’s heart went out to him.  “You’ve always seen the good in people, Merlin.”  Her eyes darted up to where Evangelista was still in the doorway, but she’d been joined by both Daves now.  She wondered where Anita was, guessing she must have been with Cal and Doctor Moon.

He didn’t say anything to that. Instead, he took a deep breath and continued.  “But I found out she’d lied to me.  When I confronted her, her…boyfriend, accomplice, I don’t know what he was to her…shot me.  Only it wasn’t a bullet…it was something that negated my powers.  I lost consciousness.  When I woke up…it’s really foggy after that.  I remember…pain.  A lot of pain.  I…must have told them about the Library…”

It sounded as if he was tortured.  River was so very glad he didn’t recall it, but at the same time she was furious that someone had done that to her child.  She found herself suddenly wishing she _could_ leave the Data Core, to kill whoever had put him through all of that for some damned book.

“The next thing I remember, I woke up in this spaceship.  I didn’t have my magic back, but I still managed to sneak off.  I guess…they were off looking for the book.  The entire Library stank of death, and the Vashta Nerada were gone.  I think…I think she killed them.”

That wasn’t good at all.  It was the Vashta Nerada that had been protecting the Library, albeit unintentionally.  All those deaths, even though they’d been responsible for so much death themselves.  They’d only been following their natures, and it certainly wasn’t their fault that all those books had been pressed from the Vashta Nerada’s forest.

Once again, she looked up at her team…her friends.  Evangelista looked shocked, Other Dave was nodding, and Proper Dave had a hand to his mouth.  None of them remembered their deaths, only that they’d been eaten, so this was an almost abstract concept for them all.  In a lot of ways, their deaths had been a bit easier than River’s own. 

“I didn’t get very far before they noticed I was gone.  I didn’t have much of a chance against them, so I did the only thing I could: I went to the nearest transmat, and asked Cal to save me.  And I guess she did, because here I am.”

This was why Cal was so distracted.  She’d long ago stopped monitoring the Library, only keeping the passive sensors active.  The burst of magic that had destroyed the Vashta Nerada would have sent those sensors off, and River figured that she was most likely trying to figure out the situation.  Plus, Merlin begging to be ‘saved’ would have added to the load she’d have already been carrying.

She couldn’t blame Merlin, though.  It wasn’t his fault.  It was those bastards who’d kidnapped and tortured him, and then killed all the Vashta Nerada.  They were most likely still in the Library, doing whatever damage they saw fit in their search for a book that was so bad Merlin couldn’t stand to have it on the same planet as himself. 

“Where’s Cal?” River asked as she soothed her boy.

“She’s in the TV room,” Evangelista answered.  “We should go and talk to her.”

River agreed.

She chivvied Merlin up off the sofa.  “C’mon, sweetheart,” she murmured.  “We need to see what’s going on out in the Library, and to do that we need to speak to Cal.”

River led the way out of the lounge.  The TV room was just down the hall, and was well-named for the large screen telly on one wall.  More often than not historical videos played on it, files saved in the core from various civilisations in the Empire.  There were two comfortable sofas and three overstuffed chairs, along with a coffee table and end tables. It opened into the kitchen, where they would often have snacks while watching the shows.

It might have been, at the very base, faked, but it was home now.

Cal was seated on one of the sofas, Doctor Moon on one side and Anita on the other.  The avatar of the little girl was sitting ramrod straight, staring at the monitor, which was now showing the shadow-festooned interior of the Library.  Nothing seemed to move, and as River watched the picture changed, to show another room, equally shadowed, lined with now-dusty shelves.

River knew immediately that the dust was the dead Vashta Nerada.

“There are people in the Library,” Cal said without her eyes leaving the screen. 

“And they aren’t good people,” Other Dave replied, “from what our new friend says.”

That had all three of them turning on the sofa.  River could practically feel Merlin twitch under their scrutiny.

“Thanks,” he said, “for hearing me and saving me.”

Cal gave him a beatific smile.  “You were in trouble.  And you asked nicely.”

“What are they after?” Anita wanted to know.

Merlin once again explained what had happened, and how he’d ended up in the Library.  Anita’s face went fierce as she realised that they had to have tortured Merlin for the information on the Darkhold.  Doctor Moon looked unhappy, but Cal was nodding in that grown-up way she had that always gave away just how old and intelligent she really was.

“They killed the Vashta Nerada,” the avatar said.  “Not all of them, but most.  And the ones left are really riled up from what I can tell.”

“Torchwood is in control of the Library now,” Merlin offered.  “You can bet they’re gonna know what’s happened and investigate.”

“Cal,” River said, “can you keep an eye on our visitors without them knowing it?”

“Just watch me!” she exclaimed, turning back to the screen.

“There are satellites in orbit,” Doctor Moon replied.  “Are they from Torchwood?  I can just read their signals, as well as the listening post they set up on my surface.”

“Torchwood did all that?” River demanded.  “How come we didn’t know that?”

“It was after you…died,” Merlin answered, stumbling over the last word.  “The shields over the Library were damaged when Strackman Lux hacked his way in.  When the people were finally evacuated, Lux requested that Torchwood take over surveillance.”

River nodded.  That made sense.  After all, Torchwood was quite possibly the only organisation with the resources to handle anything that occurred.

“You can bet we’ll be seeing others in the Library before long,” Merlin added.  “Once those satellites transmit back that there are people in the Library, it’ll be investigated.”

“Is Phillip Coulson still Director?” Being within the Data Core meant that River really had no notion of time.  She didn’t know how long she’d been living inside the core, so it could have been a thousand years…or ten.

“Yes, he is.”

“He’s a good man.  He’ll take care of things.”

At the time, River had been certain of that fact.

That was before Phillip and the Doctor showed up.

Things turned horrible after that.

 

 


	22. Chapter 22

 

**_1 September 5192 (Earth Standard Date)_ **

**_Gliese 581g_ **

**_Hubworld_ **

****

It shouldn’t have been so shocking that Nathanson had turned out to be yet another reincarnation, as he was involved in what was going on, but Ianto was still very surprised.

“You’re certain?” Melinda asked.  She didn’t in any way accusatory; in fact, Ianto was fairly sure she was just confirming.

Apparently, Arthur felt the same.  “Agravaine de Bois.  He was my mother’s brother.  He blamed Uther for my mother’s death, and ended up joining with Morgana in trying to usurp the throne.  It didn’t hurt that Uther was, in part, responsible for it, as he’d gone to a witch in order for Ygraine to conceive a child.” He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose.  “It’s how I know the price of magic…it was my mother’s life for mine, and Uther didn’t much care about consequences as long as he got his heir.  That was the beginning of Uther’s rabid hatred of magic.”

“That’s not always the case, though,” Jack argued.  “Just look at me and Ianto.  Every single one of our children was conceived with the help of magic.”

“Yes,” Arthur said, “but you didn’t ask for help.  It was gladly given, and was an embodiment of light magic.  What Uther did was demand help, and the witch decided that it was the price he should pay for doing his bidding against her will.  I’m thinking the same thing applies here: Lucy is demanding the life of the Master.  She needs the deaths of the Vashta Nerada as a sacrifice.  It’s dark magic, in its purest form.”  He shrugged.  “You should really talk to someone who knows more about it than I do.”

Then he sat up, sharpness in his gaze.  “We have someone in the family who can help.”

Ianto guessed immediately what his grandson was suggesting.  “Arthur – “

“Grandtad, we need help on this.  And she can do it.”

“Ianto,” Jack murmured.  “You know she’d want to. Especially if it meant helping Phillip.”

His mate was right; of course, he was right.  “Fine.  Call her.”

Ianto only hoped this wouldn’t turn out badly.

 

********** 

 

Lisa seemed almost small in the chair they gave her, sitting front and centre of the gathering, facing Jack as he sat behind the large desk.

Ianto didn’t like it.  Lisa looked spooked, and it was only the presence of Clint at her shoulder that was keeping her in her seat.  He had a comforting hand on her shoulder, glaring at everyone…including his parents.

“Just what is going on?” their son demanded.  Clint looked as if he was willing to take them all on, even being pregnant.

Ianto sat on the edge of the desk, trying to look encouraging as Jack spoke.  “Lisa, we need your help.  It concerns what’s happened to Phillip.”

A part of the dragon thought it was unfair that Jack was telling her that, knowing how she felt about Phillip.  But, at the same time, she needed to know the truth.

That had her sitting up a bit straighter.  “I’ll do whatever I can, Dad.”

“Wait,” Clint cut in, “I thought what Phillip was up to was Director Level?”  Once again, he was checking over everyone in the room, his sharp gaze falling on Suzie, the only person in the room he didn’t know. 

Suzie seemed to quail under his scrutiny.  Her hands twisted in her lap nervously, and she was very pale.  Ianto was really getting worried about her.

He would have suggested that they send her home, but there was no guarantee that their opponents wouldn’t have gone after her, even though Ward had originally left her alone.  He doubted they’d go after her wife, or their possible third, since Suzie was now out of their reach, but Ianto thought he might want to get onto security and see if they couldn’t get some sort of guard on surveillance, just in case.

“It’s gone beyond that now,” Jack answered. 

He went on to explain everything that they’d discovered.  Ianto watched his daughter closely, willing to call things to a halt if it got too much for her.

Arthur had been correct, though, as much as he didn’t want to admit it.  Lisa was carrying around the memories of Morgana le Fay, and no matter how much she didn’t want to be that person anymore, Lisa did know more about dark magic than anyone else they could trust with this.  The last thing they wanted was for knowledge of a deadly magical artefact getting to the wrong people; it already was, and they needed to stop them before they actually managed to resurrect the Master.

After Jack was done, Lisa looked upset, but not overwhelmed.  “Are you certain it’s the Darkhold?”

“Positive, sweetheart.”

Ianto had, quite a bit ago, noticed when Lisa was being Lisa and when Lisa was being Morgana.  Morgana somehow lacked the self-confidence that Lisa had gained; it was covered up by bitterness and rage and superiority, as if Morgana had something to prove.

Lisa wasn’t like that.  Lisa had grown up loved and cherished and, when they’d discovered the truth, accepted for who she was.  Morgana had lacked that support, and Ianto knew that had led her down the path into darkness that had finally led her to try and steal the throne of Camelot from her half-brother. 

That was showing now, although not in the same measure as Morgana must have shown when she was still in that first life.  The thin veil of superiority tainted her features, and at the same time she sat up, her spine straight and her shoulders back, staring Jack down as if she could figure out a way to manipulate him to do her bidding.

Lisa figured out what she was doing.  She slumped back in the chair, shuddering slightly, and becoming their daughter once more.

Ianto was glad to see it. 

Lisa had long ago told them all that she didn’t want to be Morgana, and she had made strides to avoid that attitude that communicated Morgana le Fay instead of Lisa Harkness-Jones.  Still, she did slip up at times, and the dragon knew she’d be talking it all out with Clint after they were back home.  She would have preferred it to be Phillip, but with him gone…

“We need to know what we’re to expect when we go up against the book,” Arthur added. 

Lisa shook her head.  “Arthur…you can’t go against the book.”  Clint squeezed her shoulder, while Ianto leaned over and took her hand.  Bolstered by the support, she went on, “I never saw the Darkhold.  I only heard of it, and it’s totally and completely evil.  If whoever you’re going against has it, and knows how to use it, you won’t stand a chance.”

The tension ratcheted itself up at her pronouncement.  Ianto had been afraid of that, that bringing in Lisa and asking her to dig into Morgana’s memories wouldn’t do them any good.

“Your best bet,” she said, “would be to steal it yourselves before it could be used.”

“How can it be contained?” Melinda asked.  “We never were able to figure that part out, back when we had to deal with it the first time.”

“I don’t know,” Lisa admitted.  “I don’t think it can be.  It’ll always call to someone with magic.  I wouldn’t be surprised if that was why Merlin got rid of it…even someone with his strong morality might have been tempted by all that raw power.”

That would certainly explain why Merlin had moved it to the Library, if it was somehow calling out to him to use it.  Ianto, who hadn’t been so sure of Merlin’s reasons for doing that, was suddenly glad he’d done it.  The last thing the dragon would have wanted was for him to have been corrupted.

“If this book is so indestructible,” Clint said, “why don’t you just toss it into a sun or something?  I don’t think anyone would go looking for it there, and it would be safe until the sun went out.  If you choose the right sort, it’d just get sucked into the black hole the sun would form when it died.”

That idea got impressed noises from everyone in the room.  Ianto was a little bothered that he hadn’t thought of it himself, but then it wasn’t something a person usually did with artefacts, no matter how evil.

“Then that’s what we’ll do when we get the book back,” Jack proclaimed. 

“I want first dibs on these bastards,” Clint swore fiercely.  “They took my mate, and I know damned well Phillip would have never given up even fake codes unless he’d been tortured.”

“Say the words, Clint,” Ianto urged.

His son gave a sharp nod.  “I demand the Rite of Vengeance, against the ones who have kidnapped my mate and hurt him.”

“So mote it be,” said the room, sealing Clint’s vow.

Except for Suzie, who suddenly looked very terrified.

Ianto wondered why, but then it had to have been intimidating to be in the room in that moment.

“Our next step is going to the Library,” Jack took back command of the room. 

“Do we want to go in force,” Ianto asked, “or as a small team?”

“A small team,” Arthur suggested.  “There are still Vashta Nerada there, and they’ll be pissed off.  Taking a larger group would only put them in danger, and a smaller force would be able to sneak around and hopefully catch our opponents by surprise.”

That was what Ianto had been thinking as well, but hearing it from his battle-trained grandson confirmed it was the correct notion to consider.

“Take me with you.”

Every eye in the room snapped toward Lisa, who was now standing.  “Lisa,” Jack said, “that’s not a good idea – “

“Dad, I might not have magic much anymore, but I do still have all that knowledge.  You might need that when you do catch up with the bad guys.  Besides, I’m Torchwood, too…even though I’m not on the front lines, so to speak.”

Ianto didn’t want to admit it, but their daughter had a valid point.  He didn’t want to risk her, but Lisa was willing; plus, this was Phillip, and she would always try to go to his rescue, as she hadn’t been able to do with her own biological, dragon father.

“Let her come, Jack.”

“Ianto – “

“It’s her right.”

Jack blew out a breath, then nodded.  “Alright.”  He poked a finger at her.  “But, young lady, you are not combat trained.  You stay out of the way and let us do that sort of thing and you follow orders.  Agreed?”

“Agreed,” Lisa swore. 

“I’m coming too,” Clint declared.

“No,” Ianto snapped.  “I am putting my foot down on this, Clint.  You are pregnant, and we cannot risk your health or that of the baby.”

Their eldest son got that mulish look on his face that said he was gearing up for an argument, but Jack stepped in.  “And what is Phillip going to say when you show up with the strike team?  He’d find a way to permanently kill both me and your Tad.”

“Then I want to come as far as the listening post on Doctor Moon,” he bargained.  “They won’t be able to get to me there, and I can still be available if Phillip needs me.”  His face crumpled.  “I remember what he was like when he reappeared after SHIELD fell.  He was remembering all that pain he’d suffered, and while he kept pretending he was fine, the nightmares were horrific.”  He turned to Melinda.  “C’mon, Melinda, back me up here.  You remember what he was like!  And you know what had to have been done to him to extract those codes from him, even if they were mostly fake.”

“He’s right,” the current Second of Torchwood said.  “Phillip was dealing with a lot back then, and I can’t help but be concerned that this is going to be just as bad.  Back then, he had Clint to support him, but at the same time the state of their relationship wasn’t what it is now.  He’ll help Phillip when we get to him.  Besides, you all know he can handle himself, even with that big belly he’s sporting at the moment.”

“Hey!” Clint protested, offended.  Melinda simply looked inscrutable under his glare.

Ianto was torn.  In a way, Clint had a point.  Phillip would most likely be in a bad state, and having his mate there would help.  But, having Clint there, in the line of fire even if he was up within the listening post, would most likely make Phillip angry.

Still, Clint was an adult, and a damned stubborn one at that.  “You’re going to be the one to talk Phillip out of calling down vengeance on us.”

Clint smirked, knowing he’d won the argument.  “I have my ways.”

Jack still didn’t look happy, but he capitulated.  “Fine.  But you will be staying up on Doctor Moon.”

“You have my word.”

“Who do you have in mind for the team?” Jack asked Arthur, bowing to his grandson’s tactical expertise.  Even though Jack had once led men into battle, Arthur had the more ‘current’ memories.

“You and Grandtad, of course,” Arthur mused.  “Me.  Lisa.  Melinda, if she’s willing…”

“I’m very willing,” Melinda growled. 

“Uncle Clint as back-up.  Aunt Sabrina.”

“You’d better include me!” Sabrina exclaimed.

“So, basically everyone in this room,” Jack drawled. 

“Except for Ms Costello.”

“Now wait!” Suzie stood up, facing Arthur, glaring at him.

“I’m sorry,” Arthur said, “you’re not trained.”  Suzie opened her mouth to make a denial, but Arthur cut her off.  “I understand you’re former Torchwood, and a part of Grandfather’s first team.  But that was a long time ago, and now you’re a civilian.  I very much doubt you’re in any shape to go up against armed antagonists.”

Suzie closed her mouth with an audible snap.  Then she sighed.  “You’re right, of course.  But I feel like I should be doing something!”

“Why don’t you help out our scientists with the Master’s ring?” Ianto suggested.  “You’re a quantum physicist, and you might see something the others don’t.”

“Alright,” she gave in.  “I can do that.”

“We’ll also arrange for your loved ones to be protected,” Ianto assured her.  “We can put a security detail on them, if you’d let us.”

Suzie nodded.  “I’ll make sure you get their information.”  She’d paled, and Ianto assumed it had to do with him thinking they might be in danger.

“I want your Commander Mar-Von as well,” Arthur continued.  “Plus, some of his men.  I’d say two.”

Melinda nodded.  “I’ll arrange that.”

“Have them meet us at the transmat terminal in half an hour,” Jack commanded. 

“That will give me time to take Suzie by the lab and introduce her around,” the dragon smiled. 

“Then let’s dismiss to prepare.”  Jack came out from behind the desk.

There were times when Ianto wondered if Jack missed being the Director.  Not that his mate would ever take over arbitrarily, but Jack had been damned good at the job.  Together, they’d taken Torchwood to the stars, growing the original Earth-bound organisation into something that spanned the Human Empire.  It had taken a huge chunk of their lives, including time away from Anwyn, their eldest. 

But they’d done good work.  It was something to be proud of, for people to still call Jack ‘Director’ and Ianto his Second.  They were both, technically, still those positions, even if they were retired; when they’d taken over Torchwood the first time, and after the 456 incursion, Her Majesty the then-Queen of England had re-written the charter to note that they were Director and Second in Perpetuity.  Which meant they could come back at any time. 

They would never do that without warning.  Phillip was an excellent Director.  He’s been behind the Kree treaty, and had taken Torchwood out even further than it had gone before.  There were outposts now set up on fifty new worlds, most of them monitoring Rifts that had been previously unknown.  Ianto knew that Jack would never usurp that position from him, but the dragon did wonder sometimes if Jack ever wanted to go back.

When pressed, Jack had denied it.  He’d claimed to have been perfectly happy with their family and his consulting work.  To not be out on the front lines any longer.  Ianto did believe him, but there were times when he’d doubt just that little bit.

Maybe one day they’d take over again.  Until that time, Phillip did the job admirably.  An added bonus was that they were closer than ever before, now that Phillip was away from the Imperial Throneworld and mated to their son.  Ianto had found that he’d missed the other immortal, and he was grateful for Anwyn suggesting that Phillip come home in the first place.

Jack approached him, a small, concerned frown on his face.  “You ready for this?”

Ianto nodded.  “I am.  It’s been too long, Jack.  There’s no telling what’s happened to Merlin, Phillip, and the Doctor.  You do realise…”  He didn’t have to say it out loud; Jack would understand what he meant.

“Yeah, I know.” He reached out, taking Ianto’s hand.  “We can’t give up hope.  If anyone could survive, it’s those three.”

This was true.  Phillip was nigh-on indestructible.  The Doctor had luck that shouldn’t exist in this universe.  And Merlin…he was as tough as his father.  All three of them could handle a lot.

But, Ianto _was_ concerned.  While he hadn’t been around much for Phillip after his resurrection, Clint had been after Phillip and SHIELD had come out of hiding.  If anyone would know how Phillip was dealing – and there was not a doubt in Ianto’s mind that he _had_ been tortured for his codes – it was their son.  The dragon had seen a little, had heard a lot, and hoped that his son-by-mating would come out on the other side with minimum side-effects.

“Let me get Suzie settled,” Ianto said, squeezing Jack’s fingers.  “I’ll meet you at the transmat.”

Jack leaned forward, kissing him softly, and then left.  The others had left while they’d been standing there, and Ianto hadn’t even noticed.  The only one left was Suzie, who was standing by the door, managing not to stare.

“I’m sorry,” she blurted, “it’s just that I remember how Jack was before.  I haven’t been exposed to the two of you being together yet.”  She blushed.  “I mean, I know you were both shagging on and off, but the whole commitment thing is new for me.”

Ianto couldn’t help but laugh.  “It’s fine.  We really didn’t become mates until after you’d died.  I can understand you’re a little gobsmacked about it.”

“That’s a good word for it,” she agreed.

“Come on, let me take you down to the lab where they have the ring.”

 

 


	23. Chapter 23

 

**_1 September 5192 (Earth Standard Date)_ **

**_Gliese 581g_ **

**_Hubworld_ **

 

Mar-Von had left to take care of moving the ring up from the Archives as they were explaining things to Lisa.  Ianto figured it was with Leo and Jemma by now, so he led Suzie out to the lift, and then down several floors to Research.  That department took up several levels of the Tower, where a majority of the artefacts discovered were studied and then prepared for archiving. 

Over the centuries, Torchwood had become both an enforcement and a scientific power in the Empire.  Ianto was especially proud of the advancements they’d made extrapolating from unknown technology, as well as projects that were sanctioned by the Imperial throne.  Torchwood had its fingers in different institutes as well, subsidising research into many different fields of study.

The floor they found themselves on was where the main labs were.  There were glassed-in rooms all along the main corridor, each dedicated to a different scientist or discipline…or both, in a lot of cases.  Ianto didn’t come down there a lot, especially now that he was officially retired from Torchwood, but at least two of the scientists who had taken up residence on the floor were old friends.

Jemma Simmons and Leopold Fitz were in the lab they shared.  They weren’t human in this life; they were Lorelans, a vaguely insectoid race, delicate antennae gracing their foreheads and with dark, large-pupiled eyes, but the dragon would have recognised them anywhere, just from their mannerisms alone. 

Both of them looked up as they entered, in that uncanny way of theirs; he knew, back during their first lives, they’d often been teased about sharing a brain or being telepathic, but in their current lives they were definitely mentally connected.  Both had been born and raised on the planet Lorelai Six, where the entire population were vaguely telepathic.  In this current life, they’d been born within two kilometres of each other, had gone to the same school, and had bonded mentally when they’d been in their single digits of age.  Of all the friends that had been reincarnated so far, they’d had the easiest time of it; their parents had recognised it within months of their births, and had fostered their earlier memories, helping them adapt to having another life that they were able to access when no one else around them could. 

They’d appeared on Torchwood’s doorstep when Fitz had turned 15, him being a month younger than Jemma, looking to work for their old SHIELD Director once more.  They’d been there ever since.

It was just a tad ironic, considering Ianto had wanted to recruit them for Torchwood back in the 21st century.  They’d been a part of the SHIELD/Torchwood exchange programme, on personal recommendation of the former head of the Scottish branch at the time, and they’d been assigned to Torchwood House back when he’d been rebuilding the greater Archive.  He’d been impressed with them so much that he’d had all the paperwork ready, however they’d been recalled to SHIELD before he could make an offer of employment to them.  When SHIELD had fallen, he’d been worried about them, but had rejoiced when he’d discovered that they were safe and a part of Phillip’s SHIELD team.

“Ianto!” Jemma exclaimed happily as soon as she noticed him entering the lab.  She came forward to collect a hug.  “It’s been too long,” she chided, one of her antennae stroking his cheek.  He wasn’t bothered by it, as it was a more familiar form of greeting among the Lorelans. 

“You and Fitz are both welcome in Ddraig Llyn anytime you want to visit,” he offered.  He told them that every time he saw them, and while they had shown up a couple of times, along with Phillip and Clint, for the most part they’d stayed on Hubworld and close to their work.

“I know,” she demurred, “but we hate to intrude.”

“It’s no intrusion whatsoever,” he assured her, as he always did.  He glanced over Jemma’s shoulder, smiling at Fitz as he waited his turn to say hello.

Fitz wasn’t a hugger, but that didn’t stop Ianto from giving him a brief one.  Fitz patted him awkwardly on the back and his antenna also touched his cheek, but he was clearly uncomfortable. Ianto stifled a chuckle as he let the young man loose.

Once Fitz had taken several steps back, Ianto made the introductions.  “Jemma…Fitz…this is Doctor Suzie Costello.  Suzie, these two are Doctors Jemma Simmons and Leo Fitz.”

Jemma held out her hand, smiling.  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Doctor Costello.”

Suzie returned the smile, although to Ianto it seemed a little strained.  “Please…it’s Suzie.”

That earned her an even bigger smile.  “Then you must call me Jemma.  But don’t call him Leo…he hates it.”

“I prefer Fitz,” her partner added. 

“Suzie is the reincarnation of someone Jack and I used to work with, back when we were getting together our first Torchwood team.”

“You’re a Reincarnate as well?” Jemma was excited.  “Fitz and I were a part of SHIELD, back in the 21st century.  We were members of Director Coulson’s team back then.”

“Excuse me… Reincarnate?” Suzie said.

“That’s what it’s called where Fitz and I come from,” Jemma explained.  “We’re from Lorelai Six – and don’t get me started about that name, because Fitz and I met an Asgardian by that name and it wasn’t pleasant – but they understand a lot about the mind and have come to recognise Reincarnates when they see them.”

“How many of us are there, that there’s an actual name for it somewhere?” Suzie asked incredulously.

“Probably more than we know about,” Fitz answered.  “If you take into consideration the Law of Conservation of Energy…well, that’s for another time.”

“It’s just that it’s a very infinitesimal number who actually remember their past lives,” Jemma added.  “Being a Reincarnate is just now being recognised by various psychological professionals, and that’s only been within the last one hundred years.  Which is a shame, because it’s an absolutely fascinating course of study.  It’s just that the phenomenon seems to only happen around a certain family.”  The look she gave Ianto spoke volumes. 

“Suzie is a quantum physicist,” Ianto explained.  He was always charmed by the pair of them and could listen to them all day, but they really had things to do and he couldn’t indulge himself at the moment.  “I thought she might be able to help with the artefact we sent you to look into.”

“We always could use more help,” Fitz said with a smile.

“Have you heard anything about Director Coulson?” Jemma asked worriedly, changing the subject.  “The rumour mill has been going nuts with all sorts of theories about his disappearance.”

He should have expected that.  Phillip was a popular leader, and anyone who served under him respected him a great deal. These two, however, were even closer to him than just employees, and deserved to know a bit about what was going on. 

“We have some leads,” he confided.  “We know where he is, and we’re about ready to go in after him, but we really need to know what we’re dealing with before we charge in.”

Fitz was nodding in agreement.  “That’s understandable.”

“How is Clint doing?” Jemma inquired.  “It can’t be easy for him at all.”

“It’s not,” the dragon admitted.  “But he’s going to go with us, in a purely back-up position.  Phillip would never forgive us if we put him or the baby in danger.”

“I should say not!  Not when he hadn’t been certain that he and Clint would never have a child of their own.”

Ianto had been aware of Phillip’s concern over that issue.  With his augmented human and immortal status, and Clint’s being a dragon, his son-by-mating had been rather pragmatic about the whole thing.  He’d been so excited when Clint had announced his pregnancy that he’d been hyperactive about it for days.

“Do you think the Director is alright?” Fitz wanted to know.  He rung his hands nervously.  “Some of the rumours say that someone tried to break in using his codes, and he’d never give those up without a fight.”

It was irritating that the Torchwood rumour mill was still just as quick as usual at disseminating information it shouldn’t really have.  “We don’t know, Fitz,” he answered honestly.  “But we all know how tough Phillip is, and the codes were fake.”

Jemma looked relieved, but Fitz was still biting his lip, and Ianto could tell he was still very worried.  Well, the best thing to do was to get them back to work, so he prodded, “Have they brought up the artefact we need you to examine yet?”

“Oh yes!’ Jemma exclaimed.  She made her way over to one of the massive tables that made up their private lab.  On the tabletop sat the heavy-looking silver ring, more ominous than Ianto would have thought, with it being an inanimate object.

Still, some of the most innocuous-seeming artefacts could be the most dangerous.

The Archive file was up on one of the computer screens, yet Jemma didn’t refer to it as she commented, “The information that came with it says that Director Harkness catalogued it himself back in Old Earth year 2008.”

“That’s correct,” Ianto confirmed.  “It belonged to an insane Time Lord who called himself the Master.  There are some people out there who want to bring him back to life, and they tried to steal that ring.  We need to know why they wanted it.”

“We’ll do our best,” Jemma promised. 

“That’s all we can ask,” the dragon said.  “We’re also going to make sure there are guards outside.  The last thing we need is for this to get into the hands of the people who want it.”

“We understand,” Fitz reassured him.

They were used to high security, so Ianto knew Fitz wasn’t just saying that.  “When you come up with something, don’t hesitate to contact us.  I’m going to leave you our secured comms channel, and you can leave your report with Clint, as he’ll be on standby.”

“Very well,” Jemma nodded.

Then she turned to Suzie, smiling brightly.  “Let’s get you set up with a lab coat and equipment, and we’ll get started.”

“That sounds good to me,” Ianto’s former teammate said.

“Suzie,” Ianto stopped her from leaving.  “I’m going to have one of the guards come in and take the information on your family.  I’ll give the order to have a team dispatched to them immediately.”

The dragon had expected gratitude, but the hug was a welcome surprise.  He chuckled a little, returning the embrace. 

“You and Jack have been good to me,” she whispered in his ear.

“You’re our friend; of course we’re going to be.  Never doubt it.”

“I’m sorry, Ianto…”

“There’s no need for that.”  He pulled away from her, meeting her gaze.  Suzie’s dark eyes were swimming with tears, and he used his thumb to wipe one away that had begun to trail down her cheek.  “We’ll take care of everything.  And, when this is over, we’ll make sure you get back home.”

She nodded, a tired smile gracing her handsome features.  Then she headed out after Jemma without a backward glance.

It wasn’t until a little later that Ianto realised just what Suzie had meant by that apology, and it wasn’t because of what she’d done in the past.

 

**********

 

After arranging for someone to get the information on Suzie’s family, Ianto made his way toward the lobby, hoping he’d have a chance to make a quick stop in order to change his clothes.  He was still wearing what he called his ‘professorial’ outfit: trousers, button down, and dress shoes.  It had been a very long time since he’d gone into action, and something within him was demanding that he have on a suit for their investigation into the Library.  A nice suit had been his Torchwood ‘uniform’ for centuries and he couldn’t see himself in anything else.

He and Jack kept a small flat in the building that was used as housing for Torchwood staffers who didn’t work on Hubworld, and had to be there for business.  He thought he had just enough time to nip down there and change…

The comm in his ear chirped.

Well, damnit.

Ianto toggled it on.  “Second Jones.”

_“I’m sorry to disturb you, but I have someone down here in the lobby who’s insisting on speaking with you, sir.”_

The dragon stifled a sigh.  “Did this person give you a name?”  He didn’t need this sort of distraction, even though he had no idea just who knew he was in the Tower at the moment.

_“Yes, sir.  He said his name is Owen Harper…”_

 

 

 

 

 


	24. Chapter 24

 

**_1 September 5192 (Earth Standard Date)_ **

**_Interlude_ **

**_Suzie Costello_ **

****

Suzie hated herself for what she was about to do.

Ianto and Jack had been nothing but glad to have her back, especially Ianto.  If it had been any other time, Suzie would have been just as glad to see them as well.

But not now.

Not with the orders she had.

Jack had been right about her being the back-up plan.  Just not quite the one he was thinking.

Jemma Simmons and Leo Fitz were both nice.  Jemma was chattering away about something, but Suzie couldn’t concentrate on it.  She really wanted to; she wanted to lose herself in science, and let the world go on without her for a few hours.

But that wasn’t possible.

The ring was sitting there on the lab bench, in a shallow tray that was made of some sort of plastic material.  There was a neatly written tag on the tray, which must have been its Archive coding.  It looked completely innocent, but Suzie knew better. 

She knew what it was.

She wanted to tell Ianto.  Wanted to let Jemma and Fitz in on the secret she was carrying, but she couldn’t take the chance. 

Too much was at stake.

Slipping her hand into her skirt pocket, Suzie fingered the small, circular device that she’d managed to smuggle into the building.  Not that it had been difficult; she was the reincarnation of a former Torchwood operative, after all, and a friend of the Director and the Second.  She could most likely go anywhere she pleased, with some exceptions.

The Secure Archives would have been such a place.

Goddess…they’d trusted her, without knowing she was about to betray them.

It was just like her first life, all over again, when all she’d wanted to do was forget about it, and to live her life the way she’d always dreamed, without Torchwood and secrets and treacheries surrounding her like some sort of tarnished halo.

Still, she wasn’t doing this of her free will.  Certainly, that had to count for something?

Ianto had told her he hadn’t trusted her during her first life, because of a darkness within her.  He hadn’t sensed it this time.  What did that mean?  And would this act taint her, like her actions had before?

She had no choice.

Just beyond the glass wall of the lab, a guard stood at attention, his back turned toward them, more concerned with someone getting in than getting out. Any minute now, whoever it was that Ianto would be sending to ask her for her loved ones’ information would arrive, and then it might be too late.

When she got the chance, she darted toward the artefact.

Even as she was snatching the ring from its tray, she was activating the personal teleport in her pocket.

 

**********

 

“There you are,” the hated voice greeted her.  “Did you get it?”

Suzie glared at the man who was seated in the pilot seat of the small ship she’d been teleported to.  He was an older man, human, with brown hair and eyes and a noticeable paunch, wearing all black as if that would hide his gut.  He had a jovial grin on his face, but it was tinged with sharp darkness, and she shivered under its regard.

“Where’s Rima?” she demanded, needing to know where her wife was being held.  That had been their leverage over her: they’d taken Rima with them when she’d refused Ward’s recruitment speech.  She’d told Ianto that she had no idea why they’d kept her alive; that had been a lie.  She’d known exactly why they hadn’t killed her for denying them.

They’d used her. 

She was their back-up plan.  The moment that they’d failed to get into Torchwood, Suzie had known what to do.  With her wife’s life in the balance she’d had no choice.

At least they didn’t know about their chosen third.  That relationship had been kept quiet, until they’d decided to announce their intention to bring another person into their family.  Peter was safe, and he would remain so while Suzie did what she needed to do.

She had very little faith that she would survive this.  But if she could do everything in her power to save Rima, then she would do it and damn the consequences.

Well, that wasn’t exactly true.

She had some hope that Jack and Ianto would be able to stop them before they raised the Master from the dead.  It was the only thing she could do.

One side of the man’s smile quirked upward in condescension.  “She’s going to be fine as long as you have the ring.”

“Of course I have it, Garrett,” she snapped.  “I wouldn’t have signalled for transport if I didn’t.”

John Garrett grinned.  “Then let’s get out of here, shall we?”  He turned back to the controls, and the small ship banked under her feet, the inertial dampeners compensating for the change in position.

“Let me see it.”

Suzie turned to glare at Andrew Nathanson.   “Not until I see my wife.”

Nathanson – or Agravaine, as he called himself now – snorted.  “I don’t really think you have all that much to bargain with, Suzie.”  He held out his hand.  “Give it to me.  I need to make sure it’s real, and not some replica.”

Suzie bristled.  “You’d think I’d risk Rima to give you a fake?”

“No, but I wouldn’t put it past Torchwood to have switched the real ring for a false one.”

He might very well have been right about that, but Suzie doubted that Ianto would have given his scientists the wrong thing, if they were looking to discover just what Lucy Saxon had planned.  Still, she really had no choice.

The ring had dug grooves into the palm of her hand, she was clutching it that hard.  It took her a moment to relax her grip on it enough to pass it along to Agravaine, who took it with an avaricious smirk on his face.  He held it up to eye level, examining the ring closely, and Suzie wondered just how he was supposed to tell anything by a simple visual scan.

The deck under her feet shifted once more, and it was all Suzie could do not to fall on her arse.  She sank down into one of the uncomfortable jump-seats that lined the ship’s austere walls, the metal cold against her back.  It instantly chilled her body, to match the cold that had settled into her heart.

She needed to see Rima, to know that her wife was alright.  Suzie was about to demand it once more when she noticed that the ship had left Hubworld’s orbit, the blackness of space and the ice glitter of stars in the front window surrounding them. 

Suzie wondered where they were going, and then guessed that it would be the Library.

She’d heard rumours about the place; but then, who hadn’t?  It hadn’t taken long for her to figure out that those stories had been wildly wrong, after being a witness to the meeting in the Director’s office.  She now knew so much more, and she couldn’t help but be terrified about letting the Master loose.

The bastard had tortured Jack for an entire year.  Suzie might have been insane in the end and had shot Jack, but for a majority of her time with Torchwood she’d actually quite liked the flamboyant leader of the Cardiff branch.  She’d attempted to seduce him once, but Jack hadn’t bitten, and it had driven her into Owen’s bed. 

Little had she known that the reason Jack hadn’t taken her up on it was a certain Ianto Jones.

Who’d been a dragon all this time.

When Suzie had gotten old enough to discover the memories of her previous life, she’d had to reconcile those with what she knew of Torchwood now.  Of course, she’d known about Jack in those few seconds before she’d shot herself, but Ianto had managed to hide his true nature from her for years.  She should have been furious that he hadn’t trusted her, but really, she couldn’t blame him for it.  Suzie had been Torchwood One.  Ianto had seen something within her that had made him wary. 

And she could pinpoint the exact moment when that darkness had taken over her life.

It had been that damned glove.  It had called to her, and she’d listened.  She’d become a murderer because of it, thinking that she’d been so very strong when, in fact, she’d been weak.

This had been her chance, to live a simple life with two people who loved her very much, and to make a difference. 

But she’d been discovered.  Suzie still wasn’t sure how that had worked.

A handheld viewer landed at her feet.  Suzie bent over so quickly she made herself dizzy, but she grabbed at it as if it were a lifeline. 

On the tiny screen, looking battered and bloody, but more beautiful than Suzie had ever seen, was her wife.

There was a defiant gleam in Rima’s dark eyes.  _“Are you alright, Chas?”_

Suzie let out a sob that could have also been a laugh of disbelief.  “I should be asking you the same question!”

 _“This guy hits like a girl,”_ Rima disparaged.  _“He doesn’t dare untie me because he knows I’d whip his arse.”_

That was her Rima: all fire and defiance.  It was one of the many things Suzie loved about her.

Rima’s face went concerned.  _“You did what they wanted, didn’t you?”_

“I’m sorry,” Suzie said miserably.  “I couldn’t risk you.”  _Or Peter,_ she didn’t say out loud.

But then, she didn’t need to.  Rima understood.  _“Sweetheart, I’m going to be killed anyway – “_

Deep down in her soul Suzie had known this, but she hadn’t been ready to accept it.  To hear Rima actually state it so baldly made her heart hurt.  “I still had to,” she argued. 

 _“I know.”_ Rima tried to give her a reassuring smile, but it tugged on her split lip and she made a pained noise. 

“That’s enough,” Agravaine snarled, snatching the personal viewer out of her hands and throwing it toward the open cockpit, where Garrett effortlessly caught it.  “You keep doing what you’re told, and you might actually see her again someday.”

Suzie was beginning to doubt that, but she wasn’t about to give up.

She just had to trust that Jack and Ianto would find a way to stop them, and save her and Rima.

 

 


	25. Chapter 25

 

**_31 August 5192 (Earth Standard Date)_ **

**_The Library_ **

**_(One Standard Day Previously)_ **

****

The Doctor was worried.

The longer they stayed in that room, the more likely Ward and Lucy would be back.

But he couldn’t rush Phillip.

His friend was still in his chair, but he seemed to have lost consciousness a little while back.  Not that the Doctor blamed him, of course. Two days of non-stop torture, no matter how resilient a person was, was bound to have taken it out of him.  If he wasn’t trussed up like a rope mummy the Doctor would have been doing something about it, but there was only so much he’d been able to learn from Harry Houdini, and practically none of it had to with old-fashioned rope and knots.

They needed to get free.  They needed to stop Lucy Saxon before she even attempted to bring the Master back.

The Doctor had to be honest with himself; there was a small part of him – a very small, infinitesimal part – that almost wished she’d succeed.  He was still the last of the Time Lords, because really, Merlin was a combination of Time Lord and whatever River was, born in the Vortex, a wizard and powerful in his own right.  His son might have had two hearts and be able to regenerate, but he still wasn’t quite all-there a Time Lord.  Maybe that was him being just a tiny bit prejudiced against his own flesh and blood, but it had been ingrained into him even before he’d been born that Time Lords were inviolate, and to mix their blood with other races was a cosmic no-no.

So, having a full-blood Time Lord other than him in the universe was more than a little tempting.

But this was the Master, and setting him loose on an unsuspecting universe was like giving a child access to unlimited candy.

Besides, after everything he’d just been a witness to over the last couple of days, the Doctor liked to think that he finally _understood_.

He remembered, back when Ianto Jones had called for vengeance against the Master and his previous self had tried to convince him otherwise, that the dragon had been forced into the same choice: to be the true last of his kind, or to let an insane, murderous dragon loose just because he didn’t want to be alone any longer.  Really, he’d believed at the time that Ianto had been trying to justify his actions, and in a way he had been, but that was before the Doctor had checked, and had learned the truth about the dragon that had called herself Lisa. 

It was the same thing.  Ianto had had to make that choice, and now the Doctor had to do the same.  Being alone…or saving innocents.

Really, there was no choice.

But he wasn’t really alone, was he?  He had family, if he chose to accept it.  He had Clara, and it was only now that he finally figured out why he’d never told her about his son and the dragon clan that had become more of a family to him than the one he’d left behind on Gallifrey, so long ago that the Time Lord couldn’t even really remember them all.  Yes, he did remember Susan, but then his granddaughter had travelled with him, until he’d abandoned her to love.  She’d eventually returned to Gallifrey after her husband, David, had died, and she’d been killed along with everyone else when he’d had no choice but to destroy their world, in order to destroy the Daleks too.

Well, he’d seen how _that_ had turned out.  He was still fighting Daleks, despite the fact that they were all supposed to have been destroyed.  

As for Clara, it wasn’t that he didn’t trust her.  In matter of fact, he trusted her almost implicitly; she’d even met Merlin once, but nothing had been said about them being father and son.  But he’d never told her because he thought, if he did, if anyone knew, then chances were he’d lose him.  It had been done out of a sense of protection.  Not from her, but from others, even though the Doctor knew she’d never just blab things to anyone.

Maybe it was time they were all introduced properly. 

That was, of course, predicated upon them getting out of this mess and stopping the bad guys.

The problem with sitting in the silence, with an unconscious companion, was that it gave the Doctor far too much time to think.

He _thought_ he might have a plan, as well, but it would depend on how badly Phillip had been injured.  The thing was, the Doctor usually worked better when he was flying by the seat of his pants, as it were.  His well-considered plans had a tendency to go awry.

Unless it was a plan his Seventh incarnation had made.  _That_ one could plan so far in advance things would only come to fruition centuries later.  It was a wee bit intimidating, really.

The Doctor knew exactly how long he’d been sitting there, various bits of him going numb because of how tight the ropes were, when a sudden chill in the air had him watching Phillip, as the immortal slowly returned to consciousness…and to power.

Ice-blue eyes met his, this time not so filled with pain.  “How long was I out?” he demanded, his voice back to normal.

The Doctor shrugged…as well as he could, being all tied up, that was.  “Several hours.  You feel up to breaking out of those ropes now?”

Phillip gave a short, sharp nod, then looked as if he regretted the movement in the sudden pinching of the skin around his eyes. 

Ice began to form on the ropes that were binding Phillip to the chair.  It took only minutes for them to become brittle enough for him to break, and he pushed them aside as he rose, wobbly, to his feet. “I’m glad they didn’t decide to cut anything off,” he commented as he staggered toward the Doctor.  “It’s a bitch to grow limbs back.”

The Time Lord could completely relate to that sentiment.

An icy hand had the ropes snapped in seconds.  The Doctor collapsed backward, grimacing as blood began to re-circulate.  “Ow, that’s not pleasant.  I don’t know who came up with the saying ‘pins and needles’ but they were severely understating things.”

Phillip’s expression said he totally understood.  “Are you alright?”

“I think I should be asking _you_ that question.”  The Doctor slowly clambered to his feet, using the wall to help out with that.

“My brain feels like it’s sloshing about in my skull,” the immortal answered truthfully.  “But I think I’m at least functional enough to get out of here.”

“We need to stop them.”

“I know.  There’s no way we can let them get away with the Darkhold, let alone resurrect the Master.”

“I may have a plan.”

Phillip eyed him suspiciously.  “And just why does this worry me?”

The Doctor was affronted.  “Oi!  My plans aren’t _that_ bad!”

 Torchwood’s Director didn’t say a thing to that, but then he really didn’t need to.

“We need to get back to the TARDIS,” the Doctor went on, ignoring the disbelieving looks he was getting.  “It’s time we brought in back-up, because we’re never going to find them on our own now, and letting them disappear with the Darkhold is out of the question.  There’s also no guarantee they haven’t already left the Library, so getting the word out is the best course of action.”

Phillip was considering it.  “That actually makes sense.”  He was impressed, the Doctor could tell.

No, he wasn’t preening.

Alright, maybe he was.  A little.

“I told you it was a plan,” he spoke without thinking.

Phillip didn’t say anything.  Instead, he was searching the room, coming up with both his portable shield generator and the rucksack he’d had with him.  He fastened the device around his forearm, then pulled out his torch from the rucksack.  “I don’t think I’m going to be able to summon up enough magic at the moment, so we’re going to need another sort of light.  They did get my stun gun, though.” 

The Doctor patted his coat pockets. Surprisingly, they hadn’t searched him, because his own torch was still there, along with River’s diary.  He tugged the light free with a flourish.  “Let’s get going in case they do come back.  I don’t think you’re in any condition to take both of them on, and Lucy has magic.”

“You’re right.”  He could tell Phillip hated to admit it. The man was strongly independent, and the Doctor was well aware of his abilities.  However, he’d just been tortured for days, and his magic still wasn’t back all the way.  There was no way both of them could face Lucy and Ward and think they could come out on top of any sort of confrontation.

They needed time.  Of course, he was a Time Lord…

He could take the TARDIS into the vortex, to allow Phillip time to heal and to re-gather his strength.  Then they could get back to Hubworld and put out an alert. Hopefully the satellite system around the Library had a way to track their ship’s course, and they could extrapolate the rest and find them before they could do something drastic. 

But first, they needed to get back to the TARDIS.

The corridor outside was clear.  The Doctor took the lead; with his connection to his time machine, he would have the best chance to get them back. 

The torch was a strong presence in the darkness, and the Doctor took comfort in that.  Phillip’s own torch watched their backs as they crept toward where the Doctor felt the TARDIS would be. 

It was as silent as death in the place.  The Doctor felt a little creeped out by it, to be honest.  Shadows loomed beyond the circles of light that were a weak defence, but there was nothing for it.  They needed to get away, and this was the way they needed to go. 

There was no sign of either Lucy or Ward.  Either they were already gone, or they were on their spaceship.  The Doctor had to wonder where their ship was parked, if it was still there.  There had to be a spaceship; they couldn’t have gotten planetside without one, and Phillip had said that the planetary alarms had signalled a ship arrival.  The teleports within the Library weren’t long-distance transports, so they couldn’t have used them to get to any other planet. 

The Doctor was also hoping to track it, and get onboard it and steal the Darkhold back.  Without that book they wouldn’t be able to enact their plan, and it didn’t matter if they somehow got a hold of the Master’s ring if they didn’t have the means to use it.  And Phillip’s giving them the wrong codes would prevent that.

So, getting their hands on the Darkhold should keep them from doing anything too drastic.

They soon reached the gallery where the Doctor had found River’s journal.  The sun had gone down, and the large shape of the Doctor Moon hung low in the skylight above the gallery.  It shed a little light down into the vast space, but not enough that the Doctor would have felt safe with just using it to navigate by.

The stacks loomed around them, casting their own shadows against the dusty, tiled floor.  If he looked down, he could just make out the footprints that he and Phillip had made days ago.  He was a bit surprised that both Lucy and Ward had believed him about he and Phillip using the teleports to come down to the Library, but wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth.  The TARDIS was safe, and soon they would be back with her.  Then they could do something about stopping the pair of them.

“Wait.” 

Phillip’s bare whisper had the Doctor stopping in his tracks.  “What?” he hissed back.

“The shadows are moving.”

The Doctor cast his light down onto the floor.

Horror crept up into his chest, making his hearts thump faster.

Phillip was right; the shadows were moving fluidly just beyond the glare of their torches, undulating like a malevolent wave at sea.

The Vashta Nerada were back, and they had them surrounded.

 

 


	26. Chapter 26

 

**_1 September 5192 (Standard Earth Date)_ **

**_Gliese 581g_ **

**_Hubworld_ **

****

Jack sighed, slipping his Webley into its holster at his waist.  It might have been an old-fashioned weapon, but he’d taken care of it over the centuries he’d owned it, and it was still a trusty friend when he went into action.

It was a part of him, of who he was.  It was a persona he’d worn for a long time: the identity of the Director of the Torchwood Institute, and as much a part of him as breathing.  Being retired had allowed him to relax that personality, to become the mate and the father that he was so very good at.  Putting it back on was like slipping into a well-worn glove, however.

He wondered if Ianto felt the same way, every time he put on a well-made suit.  The suits he’d worn as his Second had been very much a part of the dragon’s armour in his form as a human being, giving him a gravitas that allowed him to deal with the ephemerals he’d had to liaise with over the years.  With his eternal baby face, Ianto had needed to show a front that would be taken seriously.

The greatcoat, though…that had once been as much a part of his ‘uniform’, as had the period clothing he’d worn.  Now, however, those had changed over the centuries, and the greatcoat was his current persona, the one he’d had since his last, official, act as Director.  What he’d done afterward had been unofficial, but then Jack was always ready to help out when needed, as long as he didn’t need to put on the complete ‘skin’ of Captain Jack Harkness.

Now, though, with Phillip missing and Arthur stepping aside, Jack found himself back in that position.  He was somewhat surprised to realise he didn’t much care for it any longer.

He would be ready to go back home after this, to his part-time consulting and to his family.  Perhaps he could also talk Ianto into trying for another child, although it had been less than one hundred years since Alyce had been born…or maybe opening one of the many eggs that were preserved within the suspension vault that was currently melded to their lounge wall.

He’d once _been_ Torchwood, and to be honest he much preferred being a father and mate.

Still, he was needed.  Phillip, Merlin, and the Doctor were out there, somewhere, and Goddess only knew what was happening to them.  They were family, and Jack would move planets to find them.

The comm in his ear crackled.  _“Jack, you need to come down to the lobby. Now.”_

He was out of the door of the Director’s personal armoury at a run.

His mate’s voice had sounded strained, and Jack had to wonder what was wrong now as he darted around the corner, nearly taking down an employee who squawked as he sped past.  The lift was closing as he approached, and he shouted at whoever was inside to hold it, urgently needing to get to where Ianto was.

Luckily, the person inside the lift was Melinda May, and she had no problem keeping the lift door from sliding shut.

She had to have noticed his state, because her quiet question, “Director?” was filled with concern.

The immortal explained about Ianto’s call, and she nodded once, her hand resting on her own handgun.  Hers was an up-to-date blaster, sleek and deadly even half-hidden within its holster.  She was ready for whatever action that might come in a leather cat-suit version of the Torchwood uniform, all black except for the red dragon and stylised ‘T’ of the Institute.

It felt good to have her at this back.

The lift opened on the ground floor, and Jack was out, striding down the toward the lobby, people scattering out of his way as he moved with purpose toward his mate, Melinda at his shoulder.  He rounded the banks of lifts, catching sight of the large reception desk that took up a large section of wall in the Tower’s main lobby.

He found Ianto immediately.  He was standing next to the desk, his back toward Jack, but he could tell just how stressed the dragon was; his shoulders were tense and his spine ramrod straight, and Jack just knew his arms were crossed over his chest defensively.  The desk itself was empty, which told the immortal that the receptionist on duty had ducked for cover.  Anyone else who might have had reason to hang around the area was also gone, leaving a large, open space around Ianto….

And the man he was confronting. 

Jack recognised the race as Polarian, by the snow-white skin that made the brilliant red hair glow like flame.  Large, emerald green eyes with overlarge pupils were narrowed as they stared Ianto down, taking up nearly a third of the Polarian’s high cheek-boned face.  One hand gestured broadly, displaying a long, six-fingered hand.  The man’s casual clothing looked a bit out of place in the lobby, with their well-worn denim, blue shirt, and black jacket that was gathered at the narrow waist. 

The Polarian towered above the dragon’s human form by about half a foot, and yet Ianto seemed to have the larger presence of the two.

The Polarian’s eyes caught sight of Jack…was that a relieved expression in them?  “About damned time,” he said sarcastically.  “Dragon Boy won’t listen to me!”

That brought Jack so a halt so sudden Melinda ran into him from behind.  Shock vibrated through him as memories crashed into his mind.

There was only one person who’d ever called Ianto that nickname…

“Owen?” he gasped.

Two hands flew up.  “Thank all the deities!  See?” He pointed toward the stunned Jack.  “He knows me!”

“I know you too,” Ianto admitted, his voice sounding rough to Jack’s ears.  “I’m just having a bit of a hard time reconciling the Owen Harper I remember with a peace-loving Polarian.”

His mate had a point.  The Polarian were one of the kindest, gentlest races in the Human Empire.  To know that their wise-cracking, acerbic doctor had apparently reincarnated as one was going to take a bit of getting used to.

“Yeah, well, it wasn’t my choice,” Owen snarked back. 

Jack felt as if his heart was growing in his chest.  First Suzie, and now Owen…his team was finally coming back to him.  He wanted to hug him, but refrained, because he seemed to recall that Owen wasn’t that sort of person. 

Instead, he smirked. “And you make a rather pretty Polarian, too.”

“Oh deities, and I just knew you were gonna make some sort of comment about that,” Owen sighed.  “Look, I don’t have time for this shit, okay?  Something’s happened, and I need your help.”  He caught sight of Melinda.  “Oh Goddess, she works for you lot now?  I heard something about the two of you retiring and having a bunch of kids, and that that Coulson bloke was now in charge, but her?  The scariest woman I’d ever met besides Tosh?  Deities…”

Yes, that was their Owen Harper.

“Let’s go somewhere private,” Jack suggested. 

“The conference room up on five is free,” Melinda suggested. 

“That sounds perfect.”  Jack turned to actually look at Melinda.  “We’re most likely going to be a little delayed…”

“I’ll let everyone know,” the current Second promised.  With a nod to both Jack and Ianto, and a glare at Owen, Melinda strode out of the Tower, on her way toward the transmat.

“Let’s head on up,” Jack invited. 

Owen looked mollified as he allowed Ianto to usher him toward the lift.  Jack fell into step beside his mate, taking the chance to glance at the dragon.  Ianto’s face was stoic, but his eyes were gleaming with mirth.  Yes, he was glad to see Owen as well, even if he wasn’t really looking much like their old teammate at the moment. 

Jack was about as happy as he could be, with everything that was going on.  Owen showing up now, though, was in way a coincidence that he didn’t believe in.  Something was bringing them all together, now, and the timing sucked.

But beggars couldn’t be choosers. Owen was back, there was obviously something wrong, and they needed to talk. 

Because there was something about Owen’s sudden appearance that Jack felt was tied into what was going on.  Suzie had been involved, and now Owen was there. 

Jack’s comm sounded as they were stepping into the lift car.  _“Director Harkness…Second Jones.”_

He could see that Ianto was also receiving the transmission.  He touched the comm to activate it.  “Go ahead.”

_“This is lab security.  We’ve had an incident – “_

_“Director!”_ Jemma Simmons’ voice interrupted.  _“It’s been taken.”_

Dread pooled in Jack’s stomach.  “What happened, Jemma?”

Owen’s head jerked around at that.  “Jemma?  Jemma Simmons?  She’s around too?”

Jack nodded absently as Jemma continued.  _“Doctor Costello, sir.  I only turned my back for a second, but she managed to grab the ring.  She must have had a teleport with her, because she vanished before anyone could stop her.”_

The immortal was fuming.  He slammed his hand into the wall of the lift as the doors were opening, and the man waiting on the other side backed away, mumbling about taking another car.  Jack couldn’t find it within himself to care that he might have just mentally scarred some poor innocent.

“Damnit!” he exploded.  His eyes met Ianto’s, and his mate’s were incandescent with the same rage he was feeling. “She betrayed us again!”

 “Jemma,” the dragon said into his own comm, “this is not your fault.  It’s mine.  Don’t think this reflects upon you or Fitz.  I should never have let her into the lab in the first place.”

Jack knew his mate was angrier at himself than at Suzie.  He’d brought her there, thinking she was different from what she’d been back in their old Torchwood days.  He’d trusted Suzie even after all that had gone down, with the glove and its obvious dark magic and how it had corrupted her.

 _“We can’t help but feel bad though,”_ Jemma replied.  _“If only I hadn’t turned my back…”_

“You can’t blame yourself,” Jack added his own encouragement.  “We’ll do a debrief after everything is taken care of, alright?  I’m sure Phillip will want to add his own reassurance as well.”

There was silence on the comm, and Jack was wondering if the young scientist was thinking, _What if he doesn’t come back,_ and not saying it aloud. 

“We’ll bring him back, Jemma,” Ianto said.  “I swear it.”

_“Alright.  But be careful.”_

Jack assured her that they would, even as he was practically pushing Owen out of the lift.  They needed to get their teammate settled and then to the transmat; they couldn’t waste any more time now that the ring had been stolen, and was most likely in the hands of their enemies.

The conference room was one of the smaller ones, used only for meetings involving outside agencies that didn’t require seeing the Director or any of the top-level staff.  There was an oval table with eight chairs, a small cabinet that held a coffee machine as well as stronger beverages, and other equipment such as comms and video units that might be required. 

“We have to leave you here,” Jack said the moment they were in the room.  “There’s a situation that we need to deal with – “

“Wait just a second!” Owen exclaimed.

“We can’t,” Ianto put in, “there are lives at stake – “  

“But my fucking family is missing!”

Shit.

That stopped both of them in their tracks.  “What do you mean,” Jack demanded, “your family?”

If there was anything that might get them to pause for a moment, it was the mention of family in danger.  Family had become so much more important to them since they’d had their own.

But members of their own family were missing as well.

Jack weighed their options. 

“We can give you a few minutes,” he allowed, “but Owen…we have members of our own family in trouble as well.  Our grandson and one of our sons.”  They were by mating, but that didn’t matter.  _All_ family was important, whether by blood, adopted, or mated. 

“Shit,” their friend looked abashed.  “I’m sorry…”

“It’s fine.”  Ianto rested a hand on Owen’s shoulder, which was now a little bit of a stretch for him now.  “We _will_ help you, Owen.”

“Yeah, Dragon Boy.” Owen slumped.  “I know.  It’s just that…one of them is Suzie…you remember her, don’t you?”

Jack froze.

No, this wasn’t a coincidence _at all_.

Ianto cursed.  Jack thought it might have been in Latin.

Jack cursed as well, but he stuck with Boe.

Owen had an eyebrow raised in confusion.  “Okay…I didn’t expect to cause _that_ sort of reaction.”

“How do you know Suzie now?” Ianto snapped.

Oh, this was bad.

Suzie had just absconded with a ring they had no clue what could do, and now Owen was there, claiming that she was somehow family to him.  Did this mean he was involved?  Had Owen known what Suzie was going to do?

No.

No, he couldn’t see it.  Owen was a good person, and there was no way in any hell Jack could name that he would betray them like that.  He _knew_ what the Master had done; he’d fought in the Resistance.  The Owen Harper that Jack had known would never ally himself with anyone who plotted to bring that madman back.

Owen was looking between the two of them, and it had to be showing in their expressions just how bad things were.  “I…work with her,” he answered slowly.  “Suzie – her birth name is Chastity Langdon, but we all call her Chas now – is a quantum physicist with a think tank on Proxima Titan.  I know her from there…her and her wife, Rima Anaxi.  Thing is, Rima is also a reincarnation…of Diane.  My Diane.  And there’s a serious chance all three of us could be good together.  But both Rima and Chas have vanished.  I came here, hoping you could help me find them.”  He sighed.  “Honestly, I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for that reason.  We…never intended to reveal ourselves, although Rima and I wanted to years ago.  We didn’t because Chas was afraid you’d hold her past against her.”

“Owen…” Oh, Jack knew this was going to be hard, but he had to be told.

“Actually, I’ve been going by my birth name of Petrolus Regelius…Peter, for short.”

Oh, Goddess.  They really hadn’t planned on letting either Ianto or himself know they’d been reincarnated.  Jack wanted to be angry, but he couldn’t despite the hurt he was feeling.  Everyone deserved a chance at a normal life, and Suzie, Owen, and Diane…Chas, Peter, and Rima…had chosen that for themselves. 

Jack could respect that.

He just had to keep on telling himself that.

“Lay it out for me, Jack,” Owen demanded.  “If it has something to do with either Chas or Rima…”

“Suzie came to me,” Ianto answered for his mate.  “She said she was approached by a man who claimed to be the reincarnation of Grant Ward.”

He hadn’t been certain that Owen would remember, but from the foul language, he certainly did.

“What did that bastard want with Chas?”

Ianto went on to explain what he’d been told.  Jack stood there, listening, knowing they were wasting time when they could have been at the transmat, heading toward the Library’s Doctor Moon, and seeing if they could locate their missing family. 

It wasn’t that Jack didn’t care.  He did.  But Suzie had betrayed them once again, and the man who’d been at the very least her lover was there, and he’d come to ask for their help.

“No,” Owen was shaking his head when Ianto had finished.  The dragon hadn’t gone into a lot of detail about the current mission, as Owen wasn’t Torchwood any longer, but he’d said enough for their long-lost medic to get the idea of just how serious things were.  “No, you don’t understand.  Chas wouldn’t do that now.”

“Owen…sorry, Peter,” the dragon murmured.  “She did.  She stole a very valuable artefact that might aid in the resurrection of one of the most dangerous beings in the universe.”

“You might know Chastity,” Jack pointed out, “but Suzie is a different person – “

“She isn’t,” Owen defended.  “The reason we stayed gone was because she was scared, Harkness!  She was fucking terrified that you’d hold what she did back then against her.  Now, if she did make off with this artefact then there was a damned good reason for it!”

“Wait,” Ianto interrupted.  “You said her wife was also missing?”

“Yeah.  Rima.  Went missing about the same time.  A lot of folks thought maybe they’d run off on some sort of romantic getaway, but they would have taken me with them if they had.”

Suzie, Diane Holmes, and Owen…in a triad.  Jack thought that made some sort of bizarre sense. 

Suzie and Owen had been together before her descent into madness.  Owen and Diane had been together up until Owen had died.  Now, they were all together. 

Destiny was a bit of a bitch.

But Ianto might have been onto something, if Owen was so certain Suzie wouldn’t have done anything like that…

However, if she was forced into it…

That put an entirely new spin on things. 

“So we have others in the line of fire,” Jack growled.  “They are done messing with my family, Ianto.  _They are done_.”  The words come roaring out of him, unbidden and yet all the more meaningful for it.  “The Rite of Vengeance for this is mine, Ianto.  It’s _mine_ , and I’m going to pay those bastards back.”

It wasn’t the usual wording, but both Ianto and Owen ratified it, their former team member looking a bit surprised that he’d chimed in with the ritual response. 

“Look,” Owen said, “I’m sorry we didn’t let you know, but you have to understand that we love Chas, and we’d do anything to support her.”

Jack ran a hand over his face, forcing his anger back to a simmer.  It was hard, but he didn’t want his former teammate to think he was mad at him for not coming forward.  “No, of everything that’s been going on, _that_ I do understand, Owen.  Sorry…Peter.”

“Nah.  Owen’s fine.  I really don’t like my birth name all that much anyway.  I only kept it because Chas insisted.  And Diane really loves the name Rima.”

While Jack wasn’t going to judge them for not letting anyone know they’d been reincarnated, he couldn’t help but wonder if Ward, Lucy, and Agravaine might not have gotten that ring if they’d only known that their three former teammates existed.  He wasn’t about to begrudge anyone of a normal life, not when he and Ianto had worked their asses off to gain theirs.

But it had made them vulnerable.  And now, Suzie was under the influence of the villains of the piece who, if Jack was assuming correctly, most likely were using threats against her wife to get her do what they want. 

“There must have been a ship,” Ianto commented.  “I’m going to head up to Orbital Control and see if there’s anything we can trace.”

Jack agreed, even though it was obvious where the spaceship would head to.  “Contact the team and let them know we’ll be on our way after that.”

Ianto nodded.  Then he smiled at Owen.  “I’m glad to see you,” he said warmly.  His smile converted itself into a smirk.  “Even if you’ve been reincarnated as the a member of a race that’s directly opposite your personality.”

Owen rolled his eyes.  “Ha bloody ha, Dragon Boy.”  He then did something unexpected: he reached over with one long arm and dragged Ianto into a hug.  The dragon accepted it gratefully, embracing their former medic gladly.

It didn’t last long, but then Owen Harper had never been much for such displays.  “Don’t get used to that,” he warned. 

“Never,” Ianto answered fondly.  He clapped their returned friend on the shoulder and then left the room.  Before he closed the door, he said, “Don’t be a stranger.”

Once they were alone, Jack said, “We’re going to bring them home, Owen,” he promised.  That was as far as he could go; there was no way to guarantee in what condition the two women would come back in.  The people they were dealing with were ruthless, and not afraid to hurt anyone. 

He didn’t need to see what they must have done to Phillip in order to confirm that. 

“Yeah, well yours and Ianto’s words on it are good enough for me.”

“We have some leads, and we will follow them up.  We can contact you when we know more – “

“No way are you going anywhere without me!” Owen exclaimed, outraged.

“No,” Jack said implacably. “You’re not Torchwood anymore, Owen.  You don’t have the training anymore.  When was the last time you’ve even held a gun, let alone used one on someone?”

His former teammate looked as if he wanted to argue, but visibly deflated.  “You’re right.  I just feel fucking helpless!”

“Believe me, I know how you feel.”  He put a hand on Owen’s shoulder, having to reach up a bit to do so.  “We have family out there, too, and we don’t know what’s happened to any of them.  Well, we can guess at some of it, and it’s not good.  But, you have to understand…we need to stop the Master from being resurrected first.  You have to remember what he did…”

“I do, yeah.  And I get it.  But I don’t have to like it.”

Jack grinned.  “Well, I wouldn’t expect you to.”  He sighed.  “Look, I’m going to have someone take you to a flat here on Hubworld.  You’ll be contacted as soon as we have word.”

“You better.  I don’t like the idea of Chas and Rima in the hands of whoever the hell took them.”

Jack squeezed his friend’s shoulder in support.  He didn’t like it, either, because if they were so insane as to want to bring the Master back to life then they really were capable of anything.  It wouldn’t matter how innocent their victims were; nothing would stand in their way of their end goal. 

They would do their best to bring everyone home, alive.  And they would seek vengeance in their names if that wasn’t possible.

 

 


	27. Chapter 27

 

**_31 August 5192 (Earth Standard Date)_ **

**_The Library_ **

**_(One Standard Day Previously)_ **

****

Oh, this wasn’t good at all.

“Keep an eye on my shadow,” the Doctor bid Phillip, “and I’ll watch out for yours.”

The immortal agreed quietly, shining the bright light of the torch about them, forcing the Vashta Nerada back into the darkness surrounding them.

This was far worse than the first time he’d been in the Library.  Back then, the Vashta Nerada had, most certainly, been dangerous…but they’d only been protecting their forests from the human interlopers.

This time…this time, the Vashta Nerada were out for revenge.

Someone had come into their forests and had murdered millions – even trillions – of their individuals, disrupting their gestalt and trespassing within their world.  There would be no way for the Doctor to talk them out of coming after them, not like he’d done that last time, when he’d dared them to research him.  They’d been scared enough to grant him time to get the trapped humans out of the Library, on his word that they would be left alone once they were safe.

They would most likely not listen this time.  Not when their race had practically been decimated. 

Besides, there was no one that they could communicate through this time.  And the Doctor wasn’t about to let Phillip volunteer himself.  The only way the Vashta Nerada could gain a voice was from someone already dead.  The last thing he wanted to do was explain to Jack or Ianto – or worse yet, Phillip’s mate – that their family member had been used in that way. 

“They aren’t going to let us get anywhere near the TARDIS,” Phillip said softly.

Personally, the Doctor didn’t think he needed to point that out.  Even with the powerful torches, it would have only been a matter of time before a swarm of the creatures created their own shadows and then devoured the two of them.

“How’s your magic right now?” he asked, pitching his voice into a low, calm register that completely belied how he was actually feeling.

The air around them suddenly became much colder.  Phillip’s torch was rimed with ice, the blue sweater he wore gained a white overlay, as if it had snowed all over him. 

The Vashta Nerada didn’t seem to appreciate the temperature change.  The darker shadows recoiled a little, but the Doctor could tell it wouldn’t be enough.  They were still trapped, and the creatures were simply waiting for their chance at a decent meal and a little revenge.

“I can keep them at bay for a short while,” the ice mage replied, “but I don’t think it’s going to be long enough for us to make a run for it.  And my shield generator won’t be of any use at all.”

In the harsh torchlight, Phillip’s face was drawn and grey, his blue eyes almost whitened out from the magic he was bringing to bear.  The Doctor was impressed by his sheer stubbornness and determination.

“Let’s keep moving anyway,” he said. “It’s better than standing here and waiting to be eaten.”

“Somehow, I think you could have put that just a bit more delicately than you did.”

The Doctor started back down the stacks, his light leading the way.  “Well, if you’re making comments that dry I think we’ll be just fine.”

“It’s a defence mechanism against other people’s rampant cynicism.”

“I think I have the perfect right to be cynical, given our circumstances.”

“I never said you didn’t.  I was just pointing out that you were, and that you could cut it out at any time.”

Somehow, the banter calmed the Doctor’s nerves a little.  He was often accused of never being afraid, but really the Time Lord was terrified all the bloody time.  He was just able to hide it a bit better under a façade of confidence and manic planning.  “If I did that,” he retorted, “you wouldn’t have anything to complain about.”

“I’m quite certain I can come up with something else fairly easily.”

It was teasing, but there was a strain in Phillip’s words that the Doctor didn’t like.  They needed to find somewhere safe, where the immortal could rest and get his strength back.  It was obvious that wasn’t going to be the TARDIS now, with the Vashta Nerada practically blocking them. 

The majority of the creatures had been killed by Lucy’s magical burst, which meant there would be places in the Library where they hadn’t re-infested as yet.  They needed to find such a place…

“Is your lifeform scanner still in your pack?” he inquired, as he made yet another sweep of his torch, forcing the surrounding Vashta Nerada back into the shadows around the stacks. 

“It is.”  There was a rustling sound, and the light from Phillip’s torch wavered a little.  The Doctor couldn’t take his eyes away from their path, knowing that the Vashta Nerada wouldn’t hesitate to use any sort of distraction to their advantage.  “Here.”

The Doctor blindly held out his hand toward where he knew Phillip would be, and the weight of the scanner being pushed against his palm felt extremely comforting.  “Keep watch while I fiddle with this.”

Phillip’s quiet assent had the Doctor tucking the torch under his arm, and both hands holding onto the scanner, his long fingers fiddling with the dials on the device.  It was a basic scanner, and could be calibrated for all sorts of life forms.  He played with the idea of trying to find Lucy and Ward with it, if they were still in the Library, but the range on the thing was limited, and there was no telling just where the pair had docked their ship.  A quick twist of one of the dials had the scanner out to its farthest reach, and there was no sign of any sort of humanoid life.

Only the Vashta Nerada.

They were miniscule.  The scanner could read them, but not their numbers.  The swarm came across the face of the scanner as one, solid form of life, one that the Doctor could now tell completely surrounded them on all sides.  It was only their lights, and the coldness of Phillip’s magic, that was keeping them at bay for the moment.

He really wished he hadn’t checked up on them now.

There were gaps in the mass of Vashta Nerada, but not large enough to offer them any sort of path to shelter.  It seemed as if they’d all gathered in the surrounding area, most likely drawn by their presence in the Library.  The Doctor wondered just how Lucy and Ward had escaped the swarm.

Somehow, though, the Time Lord thought that neither one of them had seemed particularly worried.  Lucy had enough magic to push them back, and wasn’t afraid to use it.

The Doctor was about to hand the scanner back, when a soft whirring noise came to his attention.

He looked up from the device, squinting into the darkness surrounding them.  “Do you hear that?”

Phillip didn’t answer at first, but then he said, “What is that?”

The Doctor couldn’t help the grin that broke out over his face.  “I think we’ve got the attention of someone other than the Vashta Nerada.”

Floating into the light was a sphere, approximately two feet in diameter.  It hovered about five feet off the floor, bobbing toward them in an almost jaunty manner.  A single lens focussed on the pair of them as it moved closer.  The light from the torch that Phillip had aimed at it glittered off the surface of the ball; it resembled wood, but from experience the Doctor knew that it was a veneer, and just below that was reinforced metal protecting the processor within.

“Cal?” Phillip asked quietly.

“Got it in one,” the Doctor confirmed.  He’d been a bit surprised at not seeing more of the security cameras floating around, but then the Library had apparently been shut down completely once there wasn’t anyone there to visit, leaving the Vashta Nerada in peace.  There wasn’t anything left to look at, so it made sense that Cal hadn’t been keeping much of an eye out.

However, the loss of so many Vashta Nerada must have gotten her attention.  There were still sensors all over the Library, and many of the Nodes were most likely still functional, and the magical burst would have pinged Cal’s radar, so to speak.

The security camera floated closer, coming fully into the pitiful circle of light that was keeping the Vashta Nerada away.  It lifted itself to eye level, and for a moment the Doctor recalled the last time one had gotten that close; he’d tried to fiddle with it using his sonic screwdriver, and had ended up hurting Cal.  Of course, at the time he hadn’t been aware that a young girl’s mind had been downloaded into the Data Core, and that she was connected to the camera, but that really didn’t make him feel all that better. 

The security camera moved a bit more, exposing the strip along its top, where blue letters were streaming across the surface of the sphere.

_Hello, Doctor._

He couldn’t help but laugh, standing there, completely surrounded by one of the most voracious races in the universe, with nothing but light and cold protecting him, and he laughed some more.

“Should I be concerned?”

Another one of Phillip’s deadpan deliveries, and the Doctor turned to him, grinning.  He motioned at the security camera, and had the pleasure of seeing the imperturbable Director of Torchwood raise both eyebrows in surprise. 

The Doctor looked back at the floating camera.  “Hello, Cal!” he greeted her brightly.  “I do hate to be a bother, but can you get us past the Vashta Nerada?” 

He didn’t even question how Cal had known it was him; River was also in the Data Core, and what his wife knew Cal would know as well.  It meant that the download of River’s data ghost had succeeded, which was a relief. 

At the same time, he felt unbelievably sad.  He’d never see her again.  His vivacious, adventuresome, intelligent wife who’d saved his life about as many times as he’d saved hers.  There were so many people he’d lost in his long life, but River Song was going to be one he’d always remember.

 _Follow me,_ the sphere gave a little bobble and then headed back the way they’d come.

The Doctor followed, with Phillip at his back.  The Vashta Nerada undulated around them, waiting for their chance, and the Time Lord hoped that they’d find somewhere to hide, at least long enough for Phillip to regain his strength and for them to come up with a plan.  They needed to stop Lucy Saxon; they simply couldn’t risk the Master coming back to rampage throughout the universe once more.

At the far end of the stacks, the security camera bobbed to the right, and the pair of them followed.  The atmosphere about them felt nearly stifling, reflecting the fear they were both experiencing back onto them.  Because, if no one was afraid in those circumstances then they were either insane or…well, they were insane.  There was no ‘or’ about it. 

The near-silence of the Library echoed with their footsteps across the ornate tiling, once pristine, and now covered with the dust of the Vashta Nerada that had been killed.  It didn’t matter if they were quiet any longer, not with the darkness flowing about them like a black tide.  Before, the Vashta Nerada had struck them unawares, but now they wanted them to _know_ they were there, awaiting their chance at fresh meat.  They were no longer afraid of the beings amongst them, having been drawn out of the books by the deaths of so many of their number.  The threat around the pair of them was suffocating in its thickness.

The Doctor tried to keep his eyes everywhere, but knew at some point he’d fail.  The Vashta Nerada were implacable, and they would keep coming at what they saw as interlopers within their forests.  It was their imperative, to protect what was theirs.  They would do that without mercy, until the perceived threat was neutralised.

The sphere led them away from the gallery and into a large, circular area, a skylight open to the night, Doctor Moon casting even more shadows over the mosaic on the floor.  Dangerous shadows, ones that each of the men avoided as the security camera stopped in the centre of the floor, hovering there, waiting for them to join it.

Suddenly, the Doctor didn’t want to step into that ornate mosaic.  He knew exactly what it was hiding, and it was the last place he wanted to go. 

“What’s wrong?” Phillip asked.  He must have noticed the Doctor’s reluctance. 

“It’s an anti-gravity lift,” the Time Lord explained, swallowing convulsively.  “It’ll take us down…to the core.”

The immortal rested a cold hand on the Doctor’s shoulder.  There was understanding in his pale, pale eyes.  “We can’t stay here…”

“I know that!” the Doctor snapped.  He felt immediately sorry for his tone, but from Phillip’s expression he wasn’t holding it against him.  He also felt he didn’t have to explain, either.  “Stand in the centre of the circle.  I can activate it, but we’re going to have to make certain the Vashta Nerada don’t follow…”

“Leave that to me,” Phillip assured him.

He wanted to ask his companion if he was certain; Phillip didn’t look well, and the Doctor didn’t want him to overextend himself. Still, if the ice mage felt as if he could do it, who was the Doctor to argue?

They joined the security sphere in the circle.  Taking out his sonic screwdriver – the Doctor really was thanking their captives for being so lackadaisical with their searching of their persons – he ran through the various frequencies that would activate the lift, hoping there would be enough power to control their descent.

It really was the one place the Doctor never wanted to set foot in.  It was where he’d lost River, really before he’d even had her.  Where she’d given her life in order to rescue the 2,044 people that had been trapped within the Central Data Core when Cal had tried so hard to save them from the hatching Vashta Nerada.  Her body would still be there, and the Doctor didn’t hold out hope that the Vashta Nerada would have respected her sacrifice.

“You might want to hurry,” Phillip murmured. 

The Doctor didn’t need to look up to know that the Vashta Nerada were gathering to strike against them.  After all, one of their interlopers was now distracted.  It would be the perfect time to overwhelm them.

The sonic beeped as it found the proper frequency.  The Doctor couldn’t help the sudden shout of, “Geronimo!” as the lift lurched downward. 

Phillip lifted his hands over his head as they descended.  The air got so cold that the Doctor could see his breath as the immortal let his magic loose, ice forming in the opening left behind by the lift.  The Time Lord could tell it wasn’t very thick, but it would hold up against the rampaging Vashta Nerada and would keep them from dropping down onto them as they lurched downward.

The dome of ice was formed within seconds.

Phillip went to his hands and knees.  He was panting harshly, and the sphere dropped down beside him, camera clicking as it focussed on him.  Cal must have asked if he was alright, because Phillip wheezed, “I’ll be fine.  I just…overextended myself.”

“I think that’s an understatement.”  The Doctor used his sonic screwdriver to scan his exhausted companion.  “Your energy levels are extremely depleted.”  There were also some physical signs still of the torture he’d been put through, but he decided not to mention it.  Phillip was most likely already aware of it. 

“I could sleep for a week,” Phillip admitted weakly. 

The Doctor also didn’t say that they wouldn’t be getting that much time.  But then, he was fairly certain Phillip knew that, as well.

 

 


	28. Chapter 28

 

**_Unknown Date and Time_ **

**_Central Data Core_ **

**_The Library_ **

****

Merlin had left the room when the screaming began.

He made his way out of the mansion that had sprung up within the data landscape, needing to be alone, Phillip’s screams echoing in his ears. 

When his Dad and his uncle-by-mating had shown up in the Library, at first Merlin had been elated.  He’d known that Phillip would get the signal that had to have been sent once Lucy Cole and her partner had landed on the Library, and had murdered all those Vashta Nerada. 

Arthur had originally set up that Director Level alert, back when Strackman Lux had approached Torchwood, to hand the Library over into their hands.  He’d explained everything that had occurred there…not that Merlin hadn’t already known from his own father, that his Mum had sacrificed her life in order to save all those people within Cal’s Data Core. 

When he’d learned that the Vashta Nerada had taken over the Library, Merlin had thought he’d never hear about the Darkhold again.

Really, it had been for the best…at least, for his peace of mind.  There was no real way to describe how the Darkhold had begun to whisper to him, even before he’d known it was there.  Merlin had taken the opportunity to move it once it started becoming an obsession with him, one that he’d never told Arthur about.  He liked to believe he had enough moral strength to resist, but there was no way he was about to take the risk of leaving that thing in the Hoard when the perfect opportunity presented itself.

Certainly, he was taking a risk.  Anyone suitably powerful yet weak in mind could come across it in its secure area, but Merlin had trusted Felman Lux when he’d claimed he’d keep it locked up.  As the man had about as much magic as a stone, it seemed like the best alternative.

Plus, it did allow him to help Charlotte.  He’d been impressed with her intelligence and sheer joy, even when she was so close to death, that Felman’s idea had seemed like a sound one.  Charlotte had wanted to do it, was the tipping point into accepting the deal.  She might have been young, but illness had given her a wisdom far beyond her years. 

He would have done it anyway, without Felman agreeing to take the Darkhold off his hands.

However, Merlin hadn’t counted on someone as powerful and yet as mad as Lucy Cole coming along and upsetting his plan.

After seeing what they were putting Phillip through, Merlin was now positive that they’d done the same to him.  He couldn’t recall much of anything, except for the agony, but it only made sense that they’d subjected him to the same mind probe.  It was no wonder he’d broken and given them the location of the book.  No one could withstand the mind probe for very long.

And now, they were using it on Phillip.

Merlin was helpless. He was trapped within the Data Core, and it had been his own asking that had done it.  Still, there had been no way out; no other way to escape his captors and the Vashta Nerada but to ask for asylum within the core.  And it had been granted.

It had allowed him to see his Mum once more, but now he was needed outside, in the Library, and there was no way for him to get there.  The last time there had been living people within the core, it had taken his mother giving her life in order to free them.  There was no way Merlin was going to ask anyone to do that for him. 

He wasn’t worth it.

Oh Goddess, but he’d miss Arthur and Rory.  They’d planned on taking one of the eggs that his Mum had found, hatching it and bringing the baby into their family.  Arthur, who had once been so against children, had taken to raising Rory like he’d been born to it, and now that they were both retired Arthur had suggested it. 

Now, they wouldn’t be able to do that.

Now, with him within the Data Core, there would be no Dragonlord to hatch any more of those precious eggs.  Rory hadn’t shown any sign of it, but then it only usually happened once the current Dragonlord was dead.  Did it count as being dead if he was trapped within one of the largest data core’s in the Empire?

Merlin needed to escape.

It wasn’t just stopping Lucy Cole and her friend.  It was now about those poor children in stasis within all those eggs, and how they weren’t going to get a chance to grow up.  He was the Last Dragonlord, and without him they would remain as they are, for eternity.

He couldn’t allow that to happen.

He had no idea how long he stood there, lost in his own thoughts, when a throat clearing itself brought him back to himself.

His mother stood there, regarding him with sympathy in her eyes, the white dress she wore perfectly still within the data matrix she was made from.  He’d been so very glad to see her, knowing that her consciousness still existed within the Library, but there was something slightly different about her; it was as if she was some sort of ‘perfect’ copy of his mother, just the way he’d always remembered her, and that did not match up with what should have been reality.

It really sank in then, that this version of the woman who’d given birth to him wasn’t exactly real. 

His Dad had downloaded her data ghost into the core.  Everything that had once been River Song had been transferred over, except her physical form.  It was different for him; his consciousness was still a living one, his body saved within the data stream, whereas his Mum had died, and everything that had remained was now existing within the very core itself.

She truly was a data ghost, now.

Merlin wondered if she was aware of it.  Did his Mum think of herself that way?  Or did she really believe that she was still a living, breathing soul, trapped within the machine?

Charlotte was.  Merlin had seen to that himself, when he’d used magic to meld her soul with her mind, and inputting them both within the Central Data Core.  He hadn’t been entirely certain if it would even work, but it had.  It had been her choice to be melded with the Library.  She’d wanted to dance within the data streams, to live forever amid the books that she’d loved so well.

But his Mum wasn’t like that at all.  Her soul had moved on, perhaps to have already been reincarnated somewhere else in the vast universe.  It was only her mind that remained, thinking that she was somehow still living on, and having adventures like the one he’d stumbled into when he’d found himself within the core. 

Unlike him, she would never leave this place.  She _couldn’t_.  This was the only place she could exist. 

Merlin had once believed he could save her, that he could rescue her mind from the Data Core and have her back.  But, meeting her now, Merlin knew this was impossible. 

This wasn’t his mother.  It was only an amalgam of her memories and thoughts and she wasn’t _real_. 

Her soul was long gone. 

Still, having just this little bit of her, for a while, would have to be enough.

“I have to leave,” he blurted.  Not what he’d intended on saying, but still.

“I know,” she answered sadly.  “You’re needed out there.”

“I am,” he agreed.  “I have to stop Lucy and save Dad and Phillip.”  _They_ were real.  His absentee father that he still loved so very much, and his uncle-by-mating, who was a good man saddled with an immortality and a power he’d never asked for. 

They were his _family_. 

Merlin needed to get to them.

“It’s over,” River murmured.  “They’ve stopped torturing Phillip, but not before he gave them what they wanted...the Director’s codes.”

Oh, Goddess.  It had to have taken them inflicting such agonies on him to get Phillip to do that.  “Is he…?”

“He’s alive, although very weak.  The Doctor is with him.  They didn’t do anything to your father, except slap him around a little and make him watch.”  She grimaced. “That was so much worse for him than any torture.”

She was right.  His Dad would have been feeling every bit of pain that Phillip had been going through and none of his own.

“They’ve escaped,” River went on.  “We think they were trying to get back to the TARDIS, but the Vashta Nerada have them cut off, and Phillip’s magic doesn’t seem to be working properly.”

Merlin’s hearts pounded painfully.  Even though it was a response programmed into him using the bio-data that had been merged with the core, it was still awful.  He was aware of the anti-magic weapon that Grant Ward had, and he’d seen the man use it against Phillip.  His magic wasn’t like Merlin’s, but it did work on the same principles, and would have been just as badly affected.  Plus, the effects of the mind probe...   “We need to get them to safety.”

“Cal has it covered,” she reassured him.  “She’s sent in a security camera, and is leading them to somewhere they’ll be safe.”  She paused, chewing her lip.  “I…didn’t agree with where she wanted to send them, but it was the only place in the entire Library that the Vashta Nerada _didn’t_ take over.”

It took it a moment to click, and then Merlin figured it out. 

“Why didn’t they?” he asked faintly, stunned. 

His mother shrugged.  “We don’t know.  I have to admit, I hadn’t looked forward to my mortal remains becoming Vashta Nerada food…”

Merlin shuddered.  It wasn’t something he wanted to think about, even though that very thing had come up in dreams he’d had over the years.  He could remember yelling at his dad over not bringing Mum out, so they could at least give her a decent ceremony, but he’d been told there just hadn’t been enough time. 

He’d come to accept it, in time.  Still, his subconscious sometimes wouldn’t let it go away, and he’d wake up weeping.  Invariably, he’d wake Arthur, who was such an excellent pillow that he always managed to soothe Merlin back to sleep.

But, there was something wrong…

“I would have expected Phillip to last much longer under torture.”  He didn’t mean to sound callous, but certainly it hadn’t been all that long, and his uncle-by-mating was a very strong individual; he would have been even if he hadn’t been immortal. 

“Merlin,” River said sympathetically, “time passes differently within the Data Core.  It could have been hours out there…or days.  It’s difficult to say.”

He was shaken.  That was something he hadn’t taken into consideration.  How long had he been within the core?  Hours?  Days?

Weeks?

Goddess…

No.

Merlin took control of himself once more. 

It couldn’t have been as long as weeks, if Lucy and Ward were still in the Library.  Maybe not more than a couple of days, if that.  Phillip would have received the alarm, and then investigated…perhaps that had been one day total.  If Dad had been on time, then they both could have been down in the Library within that period. 

He had no idea how long he’d been held prisoner, however.  He didn’t recall it at all, except in brief flashes of pain and voices that he couldn’t understand.  It was most likely for the best that his memory of being under the mind probe was so spotty. 

He’d have nightmares, though.  Of that, he was certain.

What made it all worse was the fact that he should have noticed that time was no longer making sense to him.  As the son of a Time Lord – with a preponderance of Gallifreyan DNA – it should have been patently obvious that Merlin was missing a really large chunk of time.  Certainly, he knew he was from his captivity, but his time there in the core had also made a hash of his innate time sense.  He’d been so distracted by his mother’s data presence that he simply hadn’t been paying attention.

It was the same with his magic.  Merlin had grown up feeling the magic around him, and now that sensation was gone.  It left an empty feeling inside, one that he’d actually noticed immediately upon regaining his consciousness within the core.  That had been a total shock, as the magic had long been like a friend, one that was closer to him than Arthur ever could be.  His mate might have accepted that Merlin was magic, but Arthur really had no idea what it truly _meant_.

“I suspect Cal might have done something to discourage the Vashta Nerada getting that close to the physical part of the Data Core,” River went on.  “I don’t know what, because I hadn’t wanted to see, but it looks like I’m not going to have much of a choice.”

“We have to let Dad know I’m in the core.”  Already, Merlin’s mind was racing. 

Before, it had been over two thousand people gumming up the core.  It had taken his Mum using her brain as ‘extra storage’ in order to free them, and had burnt her out in the process.

However, he was only one person.  Cal should be able to download him, using the teleport system.  His own mind wasn’t taking up as much room, and it wasn’t stifling Cal’s own processors. 

He wasn’t as trapped as he’d thought.

“I need to get to them,” Merlin said aloud. 

River nodded.  “Cal is working on it, and Doctor Moon is helping her. Getting one person out of the data stream should be easily done, but she thinks we’re also going to need help from the outside.”

Merlin shuddered.  “You mean…”

“He’ll have to hook his brain up to the Data Core, the same as I did.  Only this time, it will be different.  It’s just you…not thousands.”  Her mouth turned upward into a smirk.  “His brain is big enough to handle yours…temporarily.”

That was a relief. 

“But how do we let him know what to do? Even if he knew I was in the core…”

“Cal can use the security cameras to communicate.  She’s already done it once, to get the Doctor and Phillip to follow along.” 

Merlin looked at the avatar of his mother, a part of him not wanting to leave despite the revelations he’d made about her existence.  He wasn’t going to lie; there had been times when he’d wondered if she could somehow be released from the Data Core, even though, at the time, he’d believed her body had been long gone. 

But now he knew the truth.

This might resemble his mother; might act like her, and have her memories, but the real River Song was long dead.  Standing there with him now was simply a version of her, created by the data stream that his father had managed to upload into the system.  She might be able to hold him, and comfort him, but she wasn’t the real thing.  Her soul had already moved on.

That didn’t mean it wasn’t going to hurt when he eventually had to say goodbye to her…even if he, too, was currently only a stream of data with an awareness that had more to do with technology and magic than anything else.  It would feel real to him, and he would carry that sorrow and pain with him when he regained his corporeal form. 

“Come on,” River urged, looping her arm around his.  “Let’s go back inside.  We have some planning to do.”

Merlin couldn’t help but hear the sadness in her voice, and decided he wanted to forget that this wasn’t his real mother.  For a short time more, at least.

 

 


	29. Chapter 29

 

**_1 September 5192 (Earth Standard Date)_ **

**_Gliese 581g_ **

**_Hubworld_ **

****

Ianto wasn’t certain how he was feeling about Owen being back.

Yes, he’d missed the acerbic doctor.  He’d long been hoping that anyone of their teams would eventually reincarnate in a form that would remember their time together.  But now…it was the wrong time. 

He didn’t even blame him, and Suzie and Diane, for hiding themselves and not letting them know they were back.  He could understand them wanting a normal life.  But he’d still missed them, and was glad they were back, but when this should have been a glad time for everyone it was in the middle of something that could go so very bad. 

He’d been so happy when Suzie had made her presence known, back on Luna.  The dragon had been pleased that the darkness that had lived within her was gone, and perhaps he could now start to fully trust her now. 

He’d _really_ wanted to trust her.

The thing was, he felt he could.

Knowing that Lucy and Ward were holding her wife hostage in order to get Suzie to do what they wanted her to was a bit like the situation Toshiko had once found herself in, and Ianto would never blame anyone wanting to save the life of a loved one.  Suzie had only done what she’d been ordered to do, and it was most likely because Agravaine’s attempt to steal the ring had failed.  Who knew what her purpose had originally been? 

Had the Tarot Girl known when she’d precipitated their meeting?

Ianto was willing to bet his entire hoard that she had.

The being that called herself the Tarot Girl was ancient, and full or tricks, and only spoke in riddles and half-truths.  Beyond that, her actions always meant something in the grand scheme of events.

As he made his way toward the Orbital Control suite of the Tower, he touched the pocket in which he’d put the card that the being had left behind.  He’d forgotten about it until just then, and he pulled it out to examine it.

It was a multi-headed serpent, its four heads in various positions, mouths open as if it were hissing.  It was a reddish colour, with glowing eyes, and Ianto shuddered as he looked at it.

And then it hit him, just what this card must have been representing.

HYDRA.

The serpent was a representation of the mythical Hydra. 

He came to a stop in the corridor, not paying attention to the people who had to move around him in order to continue on their way, or the looks he was getting as he stood there, feeling like a fool at not figuring this out sooner.

Had the Master been approached by HYDRA, back in those days?  Ianto didn’t think so, but he couldn’t be certain.  Yes, HYDRA had still been in hiding among the ranks of SHIELD, but wouldn’t they have taken advantage of the chaos that had followed the Master’s taking over?  Or had they simply waited in the wings, observing what was going on in the world and biding their time? 

How much of the chaos of that Year could be contributed to HYDRA, and they just hadn’t known it?

SHIELD, led by then-Director Phil Coulson, with help from the Avengers and, to a lesser extent, Torchwood, had finally rooted out HYDRA from the places they’d gone to ground.  It had taken them years, but eventually they all felt as if they’d accomplished it, culminating with the events in Sokovia and the apprehension of Baron von Strucker.  HYDRA had been broken apart, but now Ianto felt as if they’d been naïve in thinking they’d gotten rid of everyone.

Ward was back.  He’d been HYDRA from the start.  Was this the beginning of HYDRA’s resurgence once more?  Did Ward think he could convince the Master to become one of its heads, and bring the organisation back to its former glory? 

If only the Master wasn’t the insane megalomaniac that he had been, it might actually work.

That could have been the carrot that Lucy had dangled in front of him to get him to help her in her mission.  Ward would have wanted HYDRA back, and Lucy had claimed that the Master could help.  Ianto just couldn’t see it falling together like that, however.

The dragon shook off his heavy thoughts.  He had a job to do, and he was going to do it before heading down to the transmat and to meet up with their team. 

He began heading down the corridor once more.  Torchwood’s Orbital Control was on the floor directly below the Director’s level, and he took the first empty lift he could summon, not wanting to have to wait for anyone else to get on or off at different floors.  He used his override codes and sent the lift upward, hating the time it took to get there but they needed to see if there had been any ships in orbit that had left somewhat precipitously.  It was obvious where they would be going, but if they knew what ship they could put out an alert, and maybe cut them off from the Library.  It might give them the time they needed to stop things before they got so far out of hand.

Most spaceports had their own control towers, but Orbital Control for Torchwood was somewhat different.  Any ship in orbit had to check in with Torchwood’s own Orbital Control, informing them how long they were going to be there and what their business was.  Torchwood would check out their stories, and if they were on the level then they could make landing arrangements with Traffic Control at the main port.   Airspace around Hubworld was all within Torchwood’s jurisdiction, and they would always keep track of all the comings and goings of every ship who requested access, and if anything didn’t check out then Torchwood would take action.

For a ship to have been in orbit, it would have had to file with Orbital Control.  They would have all the records they’d been able to pull up on the ship and its owner.  When Suzie had vanished with the ring, it would have meant that whatever ship she’d teleported to would have left orbit immediately, and that would have drawn attention.  They would know which ship was responsible, and Ianto would make certain an alert would go out, and hopefully they would be found before they reached the Library.

Orbital Control was bustling when Ianto entered the vast space.  It did resemble a traffic control suite for any major spaceport, with sensor screens being manned by trained operatives, and a large communications array along one wall.  Each sensor desk was connected to the array, the official spaceport traffic computer, and their own computers with access to Imperial databanks.  All such facilities were linked all over the Empire, in order to have access to records pertaining to all registered space-going vessels. 

He walked up to the nearest station.  A human woman sat there, looking far too young for the job, but Ianto had experience with his own ‘baby face’ and didn’t even question that she was qualified.  “Excuse me?” he said politely, despite the desperateness he was truly feeling.

The woman looked up, her blonde hair held away from her face by the slim line of the headset she was wearing.  Green eyes were irritated as they met his.  “May I help you?” Her voice was just on the wrong side of coldly polite.

Some days it was refreshing when Ianto wasn’t recognised within the Tower, but today was not one of those.  “I am Ianto Jones, and I need your help with the identification of a spaceship that had been cleared to be in orbit.”

At first, the operative seemed just a bit unimpressed, but the dragon could tell the very moment she realised who was standing there at her station.  Her eyes went wide, and her mouth fell open. 

“Is there an issue, Second Jones?” a voice from just behind him broke in.

Ianto turned.  Standing there was a tall Remneth, her dark eyes concerned.  She was obviously the supervisor on floor at the moment, judging from her pristine Torchwood-issue tunic. 

He gave her a reassuring smile.  “Not at all.  I believe this operative will be more than able to assist me.”

“Of course!” the operative practically squeaked.  “I’ll be more than happy to help in any way I can.”

“Very good,” the supervisor answered, giving Ianto a courteous nod, and a stern glance toward the now-embarrassed operative.  She then walked away, leaving them along once more.

“I am so sorry,” the operative gasped as Ianto turned his attention back to her.  She’d gone slightly pale, and her hands were trembling in what had to have been shock.

Alright, that was fine.  After all, it wasn’t every day that the Second in Perpetuity showed up at one’s desk, asking for assistance.

Ianto waved her apology away.  “It’s fine, Ms…?”

“Andropov.  Irina Andropov.”

“Well, Ms Andropov, I need you to pull any records you can of any ship that left orbit precipitously within the last hour.”

“Yes, sir.”  The operative turned back to her station, her hands steadying as she began entering commands on her keyboard.  She spoke into her headset, and Ianto caught her words as she transferred her duties to another operative.  Ianto felt slightly guilty at putting the extra work onto someone else, but they needed to get the information.

“I have one ship leaving orbit without calling into Traffic Control,” Ms Andropov reported a few seconds later.  “It was reported to Control twenty-four minutes ago, logged into the system and patrols flagged for attention.”

The dragon was very glad at Hubworld’s Traffic Control’s efficiency.  “What information do you have on the ship and its owner?”

Ms Andropov squinted slightly at the screen.  “It was a SI-420 type, listed as the _Typhon._  The ship is registered to Captain-Owner Garrett Paxton, homeworld Lerna Prime.”

From its designation, it was a small freighter.  “What was its reason for being in orbit?”

“According to the notes from the portmaster, Captain Paxton claimed that the ship had suffered some damage to its hyperdrive and he was making repairs.  He claimed he didn’t need to land, that he had the parts on hand, and only needed an orbital slot for a couple of standard hours.”

“Were weapons’ scans made on the ship?” Asking really was just a formality, as all vessels requesting orbital clearance were scanned as a matter of course.

The operative nodded.  “Nothing was found.”

“Alright.”  The ship wouldn’t have wanted to draw any unwanted attention, and a freighter being unarmed would have done the trick.  “I want you to put out an alert on all frequencies for that ship.  Add that there are most likely three persons onboard, two of them are to be considered armed and dangerous, and are wanted for murder, theft of possibly deadly artefacts, and kidnapping, at the very least.  Give the captain’s name, and that of Andrew Nathanson, as our suspects.”

“And the third?”  Her fingers were dancing across the keyboard, and Ianto was reminded a bit of his dear friend, Toshiko, and how she made her computer do her bidding.

“She is a hostage, name Chastity Langdon.”  He considered adding Suzie Costello as an alias, but as far as the dragon knew, he and those who’d only just met her knew her by that old, familiar, name.  “There’s a possibility that there is another hostage, Rima Anaxi, but it’s also possible that she isn’t onboard.  Add her name onto the warrant anyway.  Anyone locating this ship is to attempt to board, and take all into custody.  Please reiterate there is at least one innocent onboard, and that deadly force is _not_ authorised.”

“Yes, sir.  Is there anything else I need to add to the alert?”

“Yes.  Add that we suspect the spacecraft is on course for the Great Library.”  He did a quick calculation in his head.  “As they just left orbit here, they should be due to reach the Library within five days.  We need to intercept that ship before it arrives.”

Ms Andropov typed in a few more commands, and then closed the alert with a small flourish.  “Done, sir.”

“Thank you, Ms Andropov.”  He leaned over and input the secure frequency they were going to be using for the mission into the station’s communication system.  “You can report any sightings to whoever is answering this comm.  It’s most likely going to be Clint Jones, the mate of Director Coulson.”

“Sir…does this have anything to do with the rumours about Director Coulson disappearing?” 

She looked honestly concerned, so Ianto didn’t feel as if this was something that needed to be hidden. After all, it was all through the Tower by now, and Ianto knew the stories would have gotten considerably worse the farther the rumours spread.

“Yes, it does.  The people on that ship might very well know what happened to him, so it’s imperative we stop them from getting to their destination.  However,” he added with a wry smile, “we’d appreciate you not sharing your participation in our operation until after we bring Director Coulson back.”

She looked at him incredulously.  “I actually get to tell my friends afterward?”

“I don’t see why not.”  He touched her shoulder.  “I’m going to let your supervisor know that you’re working on a personal project for me, that way you can concentrate on whatever you get from the alert.  I’m counting on you, Ms Andropov.”

She sat up a bit straighter.  “You can, Second Jones.  I won’t let myself get distracted from my duty.  We all want Director Coulson back, safe and sound.  Thank you for trusting me with this.”

This young woman had most likely never met Phillip before in her life, and yet she was showing him the utmost loyalty.  Ianto knew that sometimes his son-by-mating wondered just how he managed to gain the trust and respect of the people who worked for him, and here was another example of that.  He wished that Phillip could see that he earned it through his actions and words…well, maybe someday he would finally understand.

“I think I’ve picked just the right person for the job,” he said kindly. 

The woman blushed in pleasure, as she turned back to her workstation.

After Ianto had a word with the Remneth in charge, clearing Ms Andropov of her regular duties, he made his way back to the lift. Once he was along inside, he toggled on his comms, using a finger to program it for the frequency they would be using.  “This is Second Jones.”

 _“Yes sir,”_ Clint’s voice said in his ear, sounding professional and not at all like his son.

“Director Harkness and I have been delayed by certain events that happened here in the Tower.  We’ll explain once we’re all together.  I’m on my way, and Jack should be there shortly.”

_“Copy that.”_

Ianto touched his comm, muting it from his end, as the lift stopped on the main lobby floor.  It slid open, and he stepped out, knowing now that he wouldn’t have time to go and change into a full suit.   He felt almost as if he was going into battle without his trusty armour, and he didn’t like the feeling one little bit, but there was nothing for it.  They’d already been delayed longer than either he of Jack had planned, and the longer they waited the more desperate circumstances became for Merlin, Phillip, and the Doctor. 

There wasn’t any sort of guarantee they were even still alive.

He touched the pocket where he’d put the card once more.  It almost felt as if it was burning a hole through the cloth. 

He once again stopped in his tracks.

That spaceship had been called _Typhon._

In old Earth Greek myths, that was the name of one of the parents of the mythical Hydra.

He was more positive than ever that this was leading up to some sort of rebirth of HYDRA.

And, if HYDRA and the Master teamed up…Goddess help the rest of the universe.

 

 


	30. Chapter 30

 

**_31 August 5192 (Earth Standard Date)_ **

**_The Library_ **

**_(One Standard Day Previously)_ **

****

 

The anti-gravity lift kept descending, deep into the Library.

Toward the one place the Doctor never cared to go again.

It didn’t make sense to him that the Vashta Nerada had left the Data Core alone.  He would have thought that, the darker the place, the better the environment for them to thrive, and the Central Core was at the farthest point from the surface, away from any sort of natural light.  Plus, after the Library had basically shut down, there would have been no artificial light down there as well.

And yet, Cal seemed to think this was the safest place for them.

The Doctor crouched beside Phillip, placing a hand on his back as the immortal curled in on himself.  He frowned; the man felt almost human-warm through the sweater he wore, which was worrying, and he had to wonder if this was Phillip’s version of running a fever. Ever since embracing his power, Phillip’s core temperature had dropped several degrees below human normal.  This just wasn’t usual for him. 

“I’ll be alright,” Phillip murmured, as if he could tell what the Doctor was thinking.  “I’m just drained.”  

The Doctor couldn’t tell if Phillip was trying to reassure him, or saying it to convince his own self of that notion.

They kept descending.

The blue glow of the energy driving the lift downward was nearly the only light now, the Doctor having put his torch down for a moment while he tended to Phillip.  His companion had dropped his when he’d gone down, the barrel rolling about the floor with the movement of the platform, casting the strong light in completely the wrong directions.  Phillip drew his legs under him, and the Doctor felt him brace, and he pressed down against the arched back.  “Stay down until we get where we’re going,” he urged.  “Get a little of your strength back for the walk to the main core.”

Phillip sighed wearily.  “You may have a point.”  He did catch the rolling torch though, flicking it off while they had light to see by.  He tilted his head back, as if he could still make out the ice sheet they’d left behind, blocking off the lift shaft.  The Doctor couldn’t help but notice his eyes, back to what had to have been their original blue, without the icy fire within them. 

The Doctor was very worried about him.

The security camera hovered above them, its camera watching them almost avidly.  The Doctor knew that Cal was on the other end of that camera, her eye on them.  He wondered if River could see them as well, if she was somehow with them in some small way. 

Intellectually, the Time Lord knew that his wife was well and truly dead, that the presence within the computer was merely a ghost of the woman he’d loved.  He could remember those events as if they were yesterday; his Tenth self hadn’t known what she would become to him, although he had certainly guessed about how she’d come to know his name. 

He had always known she would come to the Library, from that first – and last – tragic meeting.  This entire regeneration had, in many ways, been trying to prepare for that eventuality, knowing there was no way to change it.  Everything he’d done hadn’t given it away; her sacrifice had been a surprise to her as well, and she’d died saving so many people.

The Doctor was so very proud of his bright, feisty, amazing wife.

Not all of his regenerations had found love like that.  Of course, his First had had an entire family, and it had been with their loss that he’d decided to start running, taking his only granddaughter with him.  He’d ended up losing Susan eventually, to her own love and then to the fall of Gallifrey.

His Second persona had had special feelings for a special Highlander, but it hadn’t gone very far, if only because there was a certain small part of him that had felt he was going to inadvertently take advantage of the naïve young man. 

That sort of love had skipped his Third regeneration, who had had too much of a love for gadgets and was too enamoured of science for any close relationships as that. 

His Fourth had had both Sarah Jane Smith and Romana – he’d been particularly fond of her second regeneration – but nothing had happened with them, either. It had come very close with Romana, but he’d ended up losing her to E-Space before he could really act.  He’d had to leave Sarah Jane on Earth, and he’d believed she’d had a certain connection with Harry Sullivan, but when he’d met her once more he’d learned just how wrong he’d been at the time.  He would always carry just a little bit of guilt over abandoning her the way he had, but in the end that was the way of all of his companions, no matter how much they would insist they’d stay with him forever.

His Fifth, in many ways, had been more of a big brother to his companions.  None of them had that particular spark that would have set his hearts beating out of rhythm. Turlough, he’d never fully trusted after he’d tried to kill him, but he’d eventually accepted him on board without fuss. 

Six and Seven had also managed to skip the falling in love trap, although his Seventh incarnation had once slept with Benny, the first archaeologist to travel with him.  Benny, though, had moved on and gotten married, and had had a very full life. 

Of course, Benny had also slept with his Eighth regeneration, as well.  She was just that equal opportunity, and in many ways reminded him of Jack.  He wondered if they’d ever met.

Eight, though…he was the one who seemed to have companions falling for him right, left, and centre.   However, he’d only lost his hearts twice: to Grace Holloway, which was ironic considering she was the one to accidentally kill his Seventh self; and Fitz Kreiner, who’d gone through so much for him without complaint and had still stuck around.  His Ninth life had adopted wearing Fitz’s leather coat, in memory, so in a way that young man had touched two different incarnations.

He didn’t like to think about the life in-between those two; that way lie nightmares he still had to this day. 

Nine had been too shell-shocked by what that unnamed regeneration had done during the Time War to trust anyone to get that near, although he felt he could finally admit that Jack had come close, and he knew he would have genuinely mourned the irrepressible ex-con man if he hadn’t ‘died’ so soon after losing him to death and immortality. 

It wasn’t until his Tenth that he’d fallen for Rose, so much he’d lost her twice.  He’d been glad to leave her that part of him that could actually admit his feelings, though, in his metacrisis regeneration. He still hoped that she’d been happy, back in that other dimension.  It had taken him a while to realise that Martha had had feelings toward him, but she’d been much happier once she’d left him and married that nice young doctor she’d met during the paradox year.  And Donna…there’d been nothing at all romantic there, but it had been refreshing to travel without someone wanting that sort of attachment.

Eleven seemed to be his lucky – or unlucky, depending on the day of the week – incarnation, in that he’d married a certain professor that had wedged herself between his hearts back before he’d even met her.  They’d had a beautiful son, one that the Doctor couldn’t be prouder of. 

He only hoped that Merlin was alright, and that they would be able to find him soon.

The lift came to a halt, juddering slightly before settling into its base.  The bluish glow faded, and the Doctor had his torch back out, shining the strong light around, noting that the shadows seemed to be staying where they belonged.

For the moment.

He reached down to offer Phillip a hand, and the immortal accepted, letting the Doctor help him to his unsteady feet.  That was also worrying, as Phillip was someone who didn’t appreciate looking weak in front of others.  It was a measure of how badly he was feeling that he even allowed it.

It was also a measure of trust, one that the Doctor didn’t feel exactly worthy of.

Together, they accompanied their security sphere into the corridor beyond.  Within two steps Phillip had shaken off the Doctor’s hand, and was making his own way, the light of his torch overlapping the Doctor’s own.  The Time Lord kept one eye on him, not liking how he was shambling along, and the other on the shadows surrounding them, not wanting either of them to be ambushed by any Vashta Nerada that might be still down there.

It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Cal…he didn’t trust the Vashta Nerada.

The corridor turned ahead, and the Doctor blinked, not quite sure what he was seeing.

“Is there light up ahead?” he asked incredulously.

Phillip didn’t answer for a moment, but then said, “I do believe there is.”

As they got closer, the light became brighter.  It glowed in welcoming white, and the Doctor’s hearts lifted.  This had to have been why the Vashta Nerada had left the computer core alone: for some reason Cal had left the lights on down there.

As they turned the corner into the control room, the first thing the Doctor saw was a corpse.

It was in a pure white environmental suit, untouched by dust or time.  The Doctor knew who it was immediately, and he dropped to his knees beside the body, bowing his head in mourning. 

“You knew her?” Phillip asked, his voice hushed as if he was afraid to disturb the silence.

“Her name was Anita.”  He reached out and touched the helmet.  Just within the visor he could make out the white of bone.  “The Vashta Nerada took her over and spoke through her.”  He sighed.  “She was dead the moment they got into her suit, and there wasn’t a thing I could do to save her.”

The Vashta Nerada had left her the moment her usefulness was at an end, leaving her skeleton within its environmental suit, the last of her consciousness ghosting away.  He’d been able to convince the gestalt mind to let the humans leave, but the time limit they’d given hadn’t been enough to take care of the bodies left behind.  Somewhere else in the Library were the two Daves, and Ms Evangelista as well.

It then came to the Doctor just what Lucy and Ward had had in their equations to bring the Master back, the one thing they hadn’t mentioned but was absolutely necessary.

They’d needed a proper body.

They had the Darkhold, the lifeforce of the murdered Vashta Nerada, and apparently had a plan on getting the Master’s ring from Torchwood, if torturing the codes out of Phillip had meant anything.  But they hadn’t had the physical vessel needed to resurrect the Master fully.

There was the last piece of the puzzle…the corpses of the team that had come back to the Library and had lost their lives there.

A hand rested on his shoulder; Phillip giving comfort in the unnatural quiet of their surroundings.  The Doctor would have appreciated it, if it weren’t for his tumultuous thoughts.

River’s team had been literally eaten.  They hadn’t stood a chance from the moment they’d set foot within the Library.  And one of them – if not all – were going to be used in a horrific plot to bring back a maniac that would destroy the universe if he could.

It was just wrong.

They needed to be stopped.

The Doctor stood, outrage suddenly taking control.  “They have to be stopped,” he reiterated aloud, his angry words echoing from the walls like thunder.  He turned to his friend, and growled, “If what I just worked out is right, then they’re also planning on using one of the corpses left behind in their spell to bring the Master back.  That’s…”  He couldn’t come up with a word that described just how terrible that was.

Phillip’s eyes darkened as he added what the Doctor had just said into the puzzle he must have also had in his mind.  “It’s an abomination,” he hissed, and the Time Lord realised he was just as furious as the Doctor was at what was a desecration.  This place was a tomb, and Lucy and Ward the criminals who were robbing the corpse of it, and what was worse they were going to also be using the dead that inhabited the Library to their own purposes as well. 

He’d known these people.  He’d tried to save them, and had failed.  They should have been left at peace.  But instead, they were being disturbed by a pair of fools with delusions of power and glory and a desire to resurrect a tyrant. 

Not if he had anything to say about it.

If the Doctor hadn’t been determined before, this would have settled it.   They couldn’t be allowed to succeed.

He got to his feet.  He hated leaving Anita there, but there wasn’t any alternative.  She’d already lain there for over one hundred years; a little while longer wasn’t going to make a difference.

But, maybe after everything was done, they could gather up the bodies before the Vashta Nerada overran the Library again.

Phillip moved back, giving him a bit of space.  The Doctor was grateful for it, but he also knew it wasn’t going to get any easier, once they stepped into the room beyond.  It was what was waiting in there, and he didn’t want to see it. 

He’d seen it long enough.

The Doctor squared his shoulders, and took that first step.

It was very much the way he remembered it.  The control screens that somehow resembled Old Earth video game machines.  The Node, with its child face, the eyes closed as if she was asleep.  The wires and cables that had been strewn about the place, like electrical spaghetti. 

The bench-like seat, more a throne than a chair.

The still-pristine environmental suit, gleaming in the overhead lighting.

The dull-coloured, cobbled together, headset that could have been a strange, steampunk crown.

The Doctor’s hearts felt as if they were breaking apart.

The Vashta Nerada hadn’t gotten to her at all, most likely because of the brilliant light that lit the hair, now straw-like and delicate, curling around a face that was still familiar despite the near-century it had had to mummify in the dry, faintly stale air that had once been circulated through scrubbers that had not run in at least that long.

A hand that was trembling slightly took him by the arm and turned him around, until he was looking at the concerned face of Phillip Coulson-Jones.  The immortal didn’t look at all well, his face grey with fatigue, his eyes dull and missing that spark of magic that had lived within those blue depths for centuries.  And yet, he was completely focussed on the Doctor, sympathy in his gaze, and suddenly the Time Lord felt the biggest surge of guilt he’d experienced in quite a while.  Phillip was ill, and tired, and he was more concerned about the Doctor than he was himself.

“Maybe you can get one of these terminals to work?” he suggested lightly, as if he _wasn’t_ trying to give the Doctor something to do in order to get his mind off the proverbial elephant in the room.  “We might be able to use one to track Lucy and Ward…or at least find their ship.”

Alright, it was working, although the Doctor wasn’t about to admit it, because he had his pride. 

Well, maybe he didn’t have to, because Phillip seemed to understand perfectly.  But then, he’d had his fair share of loss, so he most certainly _would_ understand.

“Then let’s do this,” he said, pulling himself together and clapping his hands.  “But you’re resting, because we’re most likely going to need your magic before this is all over.”

Phillip grimaced, but nodded.  The Doctor counted that as a small victory as he turned to the tall computer console, and got to work.

 

 


	31. Chapter 31

 

**_1 September 5192 (Earth Standard Date)_ **

**_Gliese 581g_ **

**_Hubworld_ **

****

Jack strode out of Torchwood Tower, heading toward the main transmat terminal, lost in his own thoughts. 

He’d left Owen back in the conference room, with orders for security to keep an eye on him.  Not that he expected Owen to attempt anything nefarious; but he knew what it was like for a loved one to be missing, all too well in fact.  At least Jack could be out and doing something about it; Owen had to wait, and waiting was hell on the one left behind.  And, even though his memories of his earliest time with Torchwood were still mostly fuzzy with age, he did seem to recall that the former medic had been hot-headed in that previous life, and Jack didn’t want to risk Owen deciding he should be out and doing something to retrieve his family.

Jack had also put in a call to Rhys, understanding that Owen seeing yet another friend might help him deal with missing his loved ones.  Rhys had said he’d come as soon as he possibly could.  Jack could only hope that Rhys being in the future and married to Jack’s own mother didn’t send Owen into total shock.

The sun was beginning to sink behind the mountains, everything tinged a deeper red than usual.  It would be full dark within the hour, and while it didn’t feel like that long, Jack knew he’d been running almost non-stop since that morning, local time.  The main problem with travelling to so many worlds in one day was the risk of what was still called jet-lag, even though jets really didn’t exist any longer.  It had been different times on each planet he’d so far visited: late afternoon on Earth; morning then on Hubworld when he’d first arrived; and mid-morning on New Avalon.  It could get a little confusing to those not used to it, and luckily for him Jack was one of those rare people whose body simply didn’t get confused like a majority of races out there. 

Still, he couldn’t help feeling just a little weary, but it was more the stress of events that genuine exhaustion.

The main transmat facility on Hubworld was located not far from the tower, in the main Plass of Gliese City that someone had decided should be named after him.  It was a low, squat building, sitting between a currency/credit exchange and a shop that catered to tourists.  While most of the arrivals to Hubworld came by spaceship, there were still enough utilising the transmat network that allowed for a brisk trade for the shop’s owners and the exchange.

The lobby of the facility was plain and fairly empty of any sort of accoutrements.  It was a place where no one actually loitered; people were coming and going briskly, since the transmat was also for citywide travel as well as planetary. 

One of the first things Jack and Ianto had done, when the technology had become available, was install one at their home in Ddraig Llyn.  As far as he knew, they had one of the very few personal transmat stations offered, due to their positions and need to get quickly to various Torchwood outposts throughout the Twelve Galaxies.  There had been many times when Jack had been grateful to have it.

Besides, Ianto hated travelling by spaceship.  Jack didn’t, he’d have his own fleet of them if he could because he loved to fly, but he wasn’t about to make his mate uncomfortable.  He could even understand it in a way, that feeling of confinement that really didn’t have anything to do with claustrophobia and more like helplessness at not being able to fight back within close spaces without hurting anyone else.

He strode through the lobby, past the various beings on their way in or out.  Jack got a few looks at his rather anachronistic clothing, but he ignored it as he made his way toward the actual transmat terminals at the rear of the building. 

Apparently, he wasn’t the only one getting more than usual notice.

His team – minus Ianto, who was still at the tower trying to get a trace on whatever ship had left with Suzie and the Master’s ring – were gathered by one of the cubicles.  Arthur saw him first; his grandson looked proud and self-assured in his Torchwood tunic and black trousers, Excalibur belted at his waist opposite a more advanced sonic blaster on his other hip.  He nodded once as Jack approached, acknowledging his grandfather and fellow Director in that simple gesture and relinquishing the mission to the more experienced immortal.

The others immediately noticed Arthur’s change in attention, eyes turning toward the approaching Jack.  They were all prepared for what was to come. 

Clint, with his bow and quiver, knives tucked into sheaths in his boots and gun at his hip, wearing all black and dark purple and obviously pregnant, his expression stern and forbidding under the overhead lighting, ready to rain down his vengeance on those who had damaged his mate.

Sabrina and Melinda, both wearing black cat-suits, holstered guns at their waists and their own sets of knives within easy reach.  Melinda had a rucksack looped by one strap over her shoulder, her dark eyes angry even though her expression was stoic.

Commander Mar-Von and two hand-picked guards, in their blast-proof armour, bristling with all sorts of weapons, standing tall and waiting for orders.

And Lisa, in her denims, a green blouse, and sturdy boots, resembling more a University student than a reincarnated sorceress in a human-form dragon’s body.  Of them all, she was the one who looked the most frightened, and Jack couldn’t blame her for it.  This was beyond anything that she’d ever signed up for, but was doing it because of Phillip. 

They looked as if they were going into battle…which was what they were doing.  All of the bystanders were giving them a wide berth, but then who could blame them?  It was a dangerous group that had gathered in their midst.

“Tad called,” Clint said, as soon as Jack was close enough, “and said there was a delay?” He looked completely relaxed, but Jack knew that was all a front.  His son was like a coiled spring, ready to dish out retribution on whoever hurt his mate.

“There was.”  Jack motioned for them all to come together, wanting to get a bit more privacy before he said anything else.  Once that was accomplished he went on to explain what had happened to the ring, Suzie’s disappearance, and then Owen’s showing up and dropping one more bombshell on their heads.  “Ianto went to see if we can get any information on whatever ship had to have taken Suzie and the ring off Hubworld,” he finished.  “It shouldn’t be that hard to figure out, especially if whoever it was left in a hurry.”

The muscle in Arthur’s jaw was jumping, the only outward sign of his fury.  “If they did, then there’s already an alert out for that ship.  Grandtad will make sure the word gets out to all Imperial vessels as well.”

“There’s a good chance the ship will be intercepted,” Melinda added.  She was also outwardly calm, but Jack was familiar with just how deadly she truly was.  “We can stop the ring getting to them on the Library.”

“And we’re certain that Suzie was coerced?” Sabrina asked.  There wasn’t any sort of condemnation in her voice, only a wish for confirmation.

Jack nodded.  “Her wife is missing as well, and Owen was positive neither of them would be involved with anything like that voluntarily.  Besides, your Tad trusted her, and you know it’s fairly difficult to fool him like that.”

He could tell that his mate had been upset at Suzie’s apparent betrayal until Owen had convinced him that it hadn’t been done because she was still rotten somewhere inside and the dragon had somehow missed it.  Certainly, Ianto wasn’t infallible, but he could tell things about other people that wasn’t obvious to others, and it had stood him in good stead throughout the centuries.

“If it were possible,” Melinda snorted, “I’d have Second Jones sit in on every interview Torchwood gave for sensitive positions.  Perhaps he would have caught Nathanson before that poor worker had been killed.”

She was still angry about not having seen anything wrong with Andrew Nathanson – or Agravaine, as he was now known – but Jack knew it wasn’t her fault.  Torchwood had stringent hiring policies, especially for those who were hired to work in the Archives, and Nathanson had managed to get past every single one of them, which was no small feat.  Hell, he could have been approached after he’d been hired, for all they knew. 

Still, that sort of platitude was something that Melinda would never appreciate, so Jack kept it to himself.

“This is getting out of hand,” Arthur swore.  “I’m getting really tired of reacting, instead of acting.”

Jack agreed.  So far, everything had been happening _to_ them and their family; it was time to go on the offensive, and going to the Library would be that first step. 

He was concerned, however, about just how the Vashta Nerada were reacting to what had been done to them.  It was going to be a very dangerous situation with just them; but with Lucy Saxon – who was now a powerful sorceress in her own right – and Grant Ward involved, it was bound to get ugly.  They didn’t have anyone magic on their side, and Jack was tempted to call Nicole and ask her to come along with.  She was another of Merlin’s star pupils, and was only getting stronger in her magic, but the immortal didn’t want to risk another member of their family.  Clint going along, even though he was going in as back-up, was bad enough.  Lisa being with them was worse.  Adding his granddaughter into the mix wasn’t something Jack was willing to do. Besides, he didn’t want to add even more stress onto Clint’s shoulders by involving his son’s only daughter. And there was no way he was going to involve Rory.

He knew he was counting on at least Phillip to be in some sort of condition to fight.  Maybe that was being a bit too hopeful, certain as he was that his son-by-mating had most likely been tortured for his Director codes, but then Phillip was one of the strongest men Jack had ever met.  Everything he’d been through had forged him into a person who could handle just about anything.

The problem with that was, Phillip would have most likely escaped before now.  Plus, he was with the Doctor, who was the undisputed ruler of Escapologists.  Together, they should have gotten out of any situation they’d found themselves it. 

But there had been nothing.

And that wasn’t even taking Merlin into consideration.  Being the most powerful magic-user in the universe meant nothing should have been able to hold him for long. And yet, he’d been missing for longer than Phillip and the Doctor, both of whom had fat too much experience in getting captured easily. 

To say that Jack was worried was an understatement.

Still, he had to hope that the three of them were going to be alright.  He couldn’t not, because that way lay vengeance and bloodshed and far too much sorrow for any of them to ever deal with. 

“Director Pendragon,” Mar-Von said, standing just that little bit straighter.  Jack would have thought that was impossible, to be honest.  “I have had the chance to gather a little more information on the Vashta Nerada, and I understand that they are creatures of shadow.  So, my men and I have these.”  He gestured to what Jack had believed were some sort of shoulder-mounted blaster cannon, but now that he got a bit of a better look realised they were powerful lights. 

“Those are impressive,” Arthur admired the enormous torches. 

“They are often used for underground missions,” the Kree replied.  “I am hoping that, between the three of us, we will be able to keep the Vashta Nerada from eating any of us.”  It was stated simply, and if Jack didn’t know better he’d have thought that the commander had just attempted to make a joke.  But the Kree were generally a humourless race, so that was obviously out.

“Getting eaten isn’t on my list of priorities,” Melinda said dryly.  She pulled her rucksack around to the front of her body, unzipping the main compartment.  She pulled out her own torch, this one as long as a stave and looking just as dangerous.  “It’s powered by a miniature arc reactor, and the case is practically undamageable.”

She passed it over to Lisa, who accepted it.  “You might need a weapon, and you can’t hurt this too much.  Besides, it will leave me free to take action as my hands will be empty.”

“What else do you have in there?” Jack asked, intrigued.  He knew that Melinda was scarily efficient, so there was no telling what she’d brought with her.

“Two lifeform detectors, some spare comms,” one of which she pulled from the sack, also handing this to Lisa, who looked at it dubiously then inserted it into her ear, “a med-kit, survival meal bars, several portable cells, a personal teleporter, explosives, and some extra power packs for the blasters.  They’re compatible to all of Torchwood’s official weapons.  Oh, and Director Harkness…” she gave him a smirk, “I also took the opportunity to pack some extra ammunition for your Webley.”

Well, he’d always considered Melinda May to be Phillip’s version of Jack’s Ianto, without the sexual tension, and that had just been proved. 

Damnit, now he’d wished he’d tried to poach her for Torchwood all those centuries ago.  Not that it would have worked; she was extremely loyal to Phillip and always had been, but he should have at least made the attempt.

He returned her little smirk, and she rolled her eyes at him.  Jack thought she actually looked fond, which warmed his heart a little.  It was hard to gain Melinda’s trust, let alone her affection, so to have both was an honour Jack wasn’t quite sure he deserved.

“Your preparedness is a credit to you, Second May,” Mar-Von said, breaking the little silence between her and Jack.  “We, of course, carry our own spare power packs, but to have extra is always a good thing.”

“And we’re standing around because?” a voice tinged with humour said from behind Jack.

“We were waiting for you,” Jack answered, not at all surprised to know that Ianto had managed to sneak up on them.

His mate was still wearing what he called his ‘university professor outfit’, trousers, tunic, and comfortable shoes for standing up during lectures.  The only thing that didn’t fit within that mould was the stun gun holstered at his waist and the large, metal case he carried by its handle in his left hand.  He seemed to holding it effortlessly, but Jack knew that anything else would have been seriously listing to one side at the weight of it.

“Sorry I was delayed,” the dragon said, “but I arranged to have any information on the spaceship sent to Clint via his comm.  I’ve got an alert out for it, so here’s hoping some law enforcement agency finds them before they get to the Library.  Oh, and then there’s this.” He lifted the case a little, in order to draw attention to it.  “This was left for me at the reception desk.  I suspect Melinda did it so she wouldn’t have to do any of the heavy lifting.”  The last part was said teasingly, communicating that he didn’t really mind at all.

Melinda simply raised an elegant eyebrow at his comment.  “Someone needed to bring the containment case for when we found the Darkhold.”

“I figured you would handle the smaller bits of equipment,” Ianto replied confidently, “so I didn’t bother with any of that.” His chin jerked toward the rucksack.  “And I see that I was correct.”

“Yeah,” Clint snorted, “we all know just how efficient the pair of you are.  Can we please go and rescue my mate and Merlin now before any more mayhem gets wreaked in our lives?”

His son was right.  It had already been too long as it was; Jack knew he had to have been kicking himself for not saying anything earlier about Phillip being gone.  But then, Clint knew what being in Torchwood was like, and would have given his mate time to get his duties done.  Jack wondered if they’d agreed on a certain length of time before either Clint or Phillip came to him and Ianto for help.  It would make sense.

They were all looking at Jack expectantly.

So, he gave the order.

 


	32. Chapter 32

 

**_Unknown Date and Time_ **

**_Central Data Core_ **

**_The Library_ **

****

Seeing the Doctor again was like taking a knife to the chest.

River couldn’t help but drink him in, as she watched on Cal’s monitor as her husband’s face filled the screen.  He looked older than she remembered, shadows in his green eyes and a slump to his shoulders that hadn’t been there the last time she’d seen this version of him.  He’d changed his coat though; this one was a deep, rich purple, and it suited him quite well.  The pink bow tie didn’t quite go with it, but the slight clashing of colours charmed her despite it all.  It was very _him_.

The Doctor and Phillip were in the main control room, where River had died and where her mummified corpse still sat in its chair, not having been disturbed ever since that day she’d given her life for those trapped within the core and for the Doctor himself.  He’d been so set on sacrificing himself, and she hadn’t wanted to risk never having met him.  She loved him too much for that.

It had just been sheer luck that she’d had those handcuffs.

“He does look very different from the man we met before,” Proper Dave mused. 

“Regeneration,” Cal said knowingly.

The rest of her team had joined them around the sofa, where she, Cal, and Merlin now sat.  Doctor Moon had gotten up; River didn’t know where he was, but she didn’t concern herself over his disappearance.  Her entire focus was on the Doctor, who was standing at one of the control consoles, his fingers dancing on the keys, mumbling to himself just low enough that the speaker wasn’t quite picking up on the words.

She’d lost sight of Phillip, but to be honest she hadn’t been paying all that close attention to him.  River was far more interested in her husband, and it wasn’t until Evangelista spoke up and enquired about how Phillip had looked that she realised he’d seemed ill. 

“He’s drained of his magic,” Merlin answered.  He sounded calm, but River could feel him trembling slightly as he sat beside her, touching her from shoulder to knee.  “If they did to him what they did to me, then his magic would have been weakened for a while.  He had to use the last of it when they escaped.  Add to that the torture he went through…” He shivered, and River folded under the knowledge that her son was in distress and put her arm around him, needing to comfort him.  “He’s going to need a lot of rest before he’ll be able to use his magic again.”

What he wasn’t saying was, _if he had the chance to rest._

Cal seemed very certain that they would be safe there, deep within the core.  But then, River hadn’t even known that she’d kept the lights on down there, and thus keeping the Vashta Nerada at bay.  It had been disturbing seeing her own body, and she really didn’t want to even look in that direction again.  Cal must have sensed that, and had kept the security sphere from scanning that area again.

The Doctor’s position suddenly looked different, and River realised that they were seeing him through one of the computer interface screens in the control centre.

_“Is everything secure in this area?”_

River couldn’t believe just how good he sounded, even over the speakers in the monitor.

“Yes,” Cal spoke aloud.  “The Vashta Nerada avoid that room, and the two interlopers are in another part of the Library, although they know by now that you’ve escaped.”

River saw him nod at that. 

_“We’re going to need time.  Phillip’s in too bad a way to do much, and I’m going to need him to help stop Lucy and Ward from resurrecting the Master.”_

“That should be impossible,” Merlin muttered.  “But they have the Darkhold, and there are spells within it that are too dark and too terrible to contemplate.”

The Doctor started, peering closely at the screen as if he could see through it and into the Data Core. 

_“Is that Merlin?”_

River felt Merlin start.  “You can hear me?”

The grin that lit up the Doctor’s face was like looking into a nova. 

_“Yes. You’re just off-screen, though.  How did you get in there, anyway?”_

Merlin shifted slightly, and River could tell just when the Doctor caught sight of him.  “That’s a long story,” her son exclaimed happily, “and one I’ll be glad to tell you as soon as I get back to the real world.”

_“Is your mother there, too?”_

“I’m here,” River spoke up, shifting a little herself.  Her own smile turned sly as her husband reacted to her presence.  “Hello, Sweetie.”

The Doctor’s expression turned soft and fond. 

_“Hello, Professor Song, you minx.  Not getting into any trouble, are you?”_

River couldn’t help but laugh.  “Always, of course.”

_“Why doesn’t that surprise me?”_

Oh, but she was so very glad to see him again.  Missing him had been like missing a limb, and it was with every bit of her that River wished she was still living, and travelling with him and their son, seeing the universe once more.  As wonderful as Cal’s creations were, they would never really stack up to the real thing.

Then the Doctor went solemn. 

_“Do you know where Lucy and Ward are?”_

“They’re still in the upper levels,” Cal reported.  “Their ship landed in the Future History section.  They’ve been searching for you.  I don’t think they’ve even considered looking any deeper than the surface, though.  Probably because of the Vashta Nerada presence…which is becoming more and more agitated as time goes on.”

_“Is there a way for us to get to the TARDIS?”_

“No.  They know what it is, and will do whatever they can to keep you from reaching it.  They know who you are, Doctor, but this time I don’t think they much care.”

_“Can’t blame them, really.  I sort of broke my word to them when Lucy and Ward showed up, even though I didn’t have any control over that.”_

“There wasn’t anything you could have done to prevent it,” River spoke up.

The Doctor chewed his lower lip.  “ _No, you’re right.  But I suspect the Vashta Nerada don’t feel that way.”_

They wouldn’t.  Of course they wouldn’t.  River could recall the deal he’d made with the Vashta Nerada, to get all the people off the Library in exchange for leaving the voracious aliens in peace.  That peace had lasted quite a while but, in the end, it had failed, due to greedy, power-mad people who wanted to resurrect a maniac.

River had the entire story.  Cal knew the Library inside and out, and had surveillance devices all throughout.  They’d had a ringside seat for them torturing Phillip and had witnessed Lucy and Ward letting the story come to light…no pun intended, of course. 

It seemed impossible that someone so long dead could be brought back to life.  River wasn’t magical herself, but she had a magical son, and had seen some very strange things in her time.  Still, the very idea that someone could use magic to resurrect someone like that was abhorrent.  It seemed to her to go against the principles of magic that she _was_ familiar with. 

A life for a life.  That was a tenet of magic, even if it was the dark kind.  That she did know.  And all she could think of was all of those Vashta Nerada that had been killed just so Lucy Saxon could bring the Master back into the land of the living.  She might never have met that particular Time Lord, but she was aware of what he’d done, and none of it was good.  The universe didn’t stand a chance if he was brought back.

That couldn’t be allowed to happen. 

“We need to get Merlin out of the Data Core,” she told her husband.

The Doctor paused.   _“I have the equipment here.  I can do it, since one mind won’t overload mine, but he’ll show back up at the same place he was taken from.  You will need to make certain the area is clear of the Vashta Nerada, because we don’t want him to be devoured the moment he’s back in his corporeal form.”_

He had a point. 

“Can we do that?” River asked Cal.

The avatar of the little girl chewed her lip thoughtfully.  “I know where I saved him from, but I don’t think that area is overrun yet.  The problem is, it’s very close to where the spaceship is landed, and there would be a chance he’d be discovered.  I also don’t know how getting him out of the core will affect his magic, either.”

River glanced at her son.  He looked pensive, considering Cal’s concerns. 

And, suddenly, River didn’t want to let him go.

Oh, she knew he’d have to go back.  Merlin had his own family now, and he needed to get back to them.  Arthur would most likely be doing everything possible in order to find him, and Rory – oh, she’d adored that they’d named their first son after River’s own father – needed his other father. 

Merlin had too much to do, out there in the real world.  His tasks weren’t done yet, she knew that without a single doubt.  He simply couldn’t stay with her.

Not that he would want to.

River had no doubt that he’d missed her.  But her presence within the core would not be enough for him.  Merlin needed his family.  And not just Arthur and Rory.  He needed every single one of the Harkness-Jones clan around him, just as much as they needed him.

There was also the Darkhold to consider. 

While Phillip was a first-rate magic-user, he’d been tortured and his magic smothered by whatever it had been that Ward had shot him with.  He needed time to recover, but even if he was at full power she doubted that he’d be able to stand up to Lucy.  Merlin had told her that Lucy had the promise of being almost as powerful as Merlin himself was, and there was no way Phillip was even in the same league, despite the fact that he’d gained his power from a mad god with serious envy issues and an axe to grind.

They needed Merlin.  He was the only one who might be able to take Lucy in a fight, and there was a guarantee she wouldn’t fight fair.   

River still couldn’t help but be a little selfish, though.

Seeing him again for real had brought home to her just how much she missed him.  River hadn’t been the best mother, and she’d pretty much abandoned him at one point, but she still loved him very much.  She’d wasted so much time of her time, and she wanted to get that time back.

The Doctor had done the same to him.  And that didn’t make her feel at all better that he’d turned out as negligent as she had, although she should have expected it.

She and the Doctor both hadn’t been cut out to be parents.  River’s feet were too itchy to stay in one place too long, and the Doctor was always running.  They should never have had a child to begin with, if she was being honest with herself.  But they had, and Merlin was a bright soul whose parents’ flakiness and poor parenting skills hadn’t damaged him too much.

Perhaps, if she sent him back, her wayward husband would stop running for a little while.

She could hope, at least.

“I have to take the chance,” Merlin said.  “They need me to take on Lucy, and I’m sure it will come down to that.  We have to stop her, and Phillip won’t be in any condition, plus he’s not strong enough.”

It was gratifying that he’d come up with the same reasons she had for him needing to go home.

“I trust my Dad, but there are even things he can’t handle,” Merlin went on, “and he doesn’t have any formal magical training.  He needs help.”

He looked at Cal.  “If you can send me back to where I came from, can you have one of those security cameras in place for me?  You can lead me to them once I’m back in my physical body.  And, if for some reason I need to have you save me again…”

“I can do that,” the avatar answered stoutly.  “Although we don’t want to rely on that too much.  I don’t know what sort of effect it will have on you if I keep saving your physical pattern in the system and your mind within the core.  It might make it harder and harder each time to send you back.”

River nodded, understanding what she meant.  Merlin’s mind being separated from his body would most likely have some detrimental effects, and having to do it over and over again would only make things worse. 

They’d need to do this right the first time.

There was an expression in the Doctor’s eyes, one that River didn’t quite like.  “ _I’ll need a bit of time to get things together here.  I’ll let you know as soon as I’m done.  It shouldn’t take too long, though, since I have a head start.”_

River knew immediately what he wasn’t saying.

Merlin had to have figured it out as well, because he stiffened in his place beside her.

The Doctor was going to have to use the same equipment that River herself had cobbled together and was still with her physical body.

There was something inherently sickening knowing he was going to have to poke around her corpse.  River wasn’t happy about it, but it made the most sense.  Everything was ready, all he would need to do was make certain it was all still usable.  And, if it wasn’t, he’d need to fix it before using it once more.

Oh, River wished she could be there to support him.

It wouldn’t be easy for him to do it.  While the Doctor could be an emotionally stunted child at times, he really did love deeply, and he’d loved her very much.  Enough to actually marry her.  Oh, River was very much aware that she wasn’t the first, and she certainly wouldn’t be the last…nor would she want to be, either.  The Doctor was going to be alive for a much longer time than most beings out there, and River didn’t want him to wallow in grief when he could be with someone else.  And she didn’t mean like a companion, either.  The Doctor needed someone who would love him unconditionally, who would take care of him and give him that sense of family he truly needed.  For a while, that had been her.  Now, it needed to be someone else, if he wasn’t travelling with Merlin or staying with the clan who’d practically adopted them into their family despite everything the Doctor’s previous regeneration had been responsible for.

Now, that was truly loving someone.  And the Doctor was damned lucky to have that, even if he didn’t believe it himself.

The Doctor’s face left the monitor, and all that they could now see were the processor banks that made up the Central Data Core.  They were just at the wrong angle to see what he was doing, and River was glad of that.  She wasn’t at all squeamish, but there was something about seeing her own dead body that gave her the creeps.

She found herself turning toward her son.  The expression on Merlin’s face was resolute, and she was inordinately proud of him.  She really couldn’t take much of the credit for raising him, but that didn’t stop her from feeling the way she did.

River was going to miss him, all over again.

Well, not that she’d never really stopped.

 

 


	33. Chapter 33

 

**_1 September 5192 (Earth Standard Date)_ **

**_Interlude – Suzie Costello_ **

****

Despair was hitting her hard, and Suzie slumped down into her seat, trying to tell herself that she would be saved.  That she had to have faith in Jack and Ianto and Torchwood in order to come to her rescue, and then find Rima before anything happened to her.  Then, maybe, they could get back to Peter and finally offer him that place with them in their family.

It was really all she had to hold onto.

Opposite her, Agravaine was smirking, and she wanted nothing more than to wipe it from his obsequious features.  He irritated her in the worst possible way, having known squirrely little men like him before, and finding them disgusting, always trying to ingratiate themselves into the upper echelons of power, in hopes of grasping a little bit for themselves in order to make themselves more than they ever would hope to be.  She’d worked with her fair share.

Suzie was very worried about Rima.  Her wife could have been anywhere.  There was that little voice in the back of her mind that kept poking her with the knowledge that there was no way they were going to let either of them live, but Suzie was stubborn in that she could still hold out that small smidgen of hope, that they would somehow be saved.  It didn’t stop her from being scared out of her mind, and for wondering just how that was going to happen, though.

She had no idea how long they’d been in space.  Garrett sat in the cockpit, regaling them with stories that Suzie ignored easily.  Agravaine seemed to be getting bored with them, and Suzie wondered if they’d become complacent or something, and she could make a move.  Not that she could go anywhere, but maybe she could somehow get the upper hand?

There really wasn’t a chance of that.

Jack and Ianto had been correct: she might have been able to remember her time with Torchwood, but that didn’t mean she could call those actual memories of any sort of training.  The body she was in now had absolutely no idea of muscle memory, of the self-defence tactics that she’d learned from her first job at Torchwood One, or the gun training Jack had given her.  Well, that training had been a bit like foreplay, and it had been one of the reasons she’d made a play for him back then, but Jack hadn’t been interested.  Now, of course, she knew the real reason for that. 

Those lessons had been good for one thing: teaching her to react without distraction. 

The thing was, Suzie was certain she wouldn’t be able to rely on that now.

She was far too compromised.  With them holding Rima, she couldn’t concentrate on what she was supposed to do in order to overpower her captors.  Not that she could do that, anyway.  She simply didn’t recall how.  Not against John Garrett, at least.  He might have been running to fat, but Suzie could tell he knew what he was doing. 

She might have had a small chance against Agravaine, who was obviously a trained academic, but Garrett…no, she’d be dead before she could get close enough to him to do any sort of damage.

The ship suddenly shuddered slightly.  

Suzie grabbed onto one of the restraints on her seat.  She hadn’t strapped herself in, and was now wishing she had if they were going to be getting into some sort of turbulence.

But the cursing from the pilot chair told her this wasn’t any mere turbulence they were experiencing.

“What’s going on?” Agravaine demanded.

“We’ve got a patrol vessel trying to get a weapons’ lock on us,” Garrett gritted. 

“How did they find us?”

“How the hell should I know?  The moment we left Hubworld orbit without warning I’m sure an alert went out.”

The ship juddered a little, and Suzie could see Garrett was attempting to avoid being taken by the patrol ship.  Suzie’s heart began to hammer in her chest, hope blossoming within her, knowing that it had have been Jack and Ianto putting out that alert on their ship.

“But we have to be past Hubworld’s system influence by now,” Agravaine pointed out harshly.

‘We are,” Garrett answered, annoyed.  “I didn’t say it was a _Hubworld_ patrol, now did I?”

Agravaine paled.  “You mean it’s _Imperial_?”

Garrett didn’t answer.  Instead, he flicked a switch on the console in front of him, and a tinny voice spoke, _“— is Imperial Patrol Alpha Two Niner, shut down your hyperdrive and prepare to be boarded.  I repeat,_ IFV _designated_ Typhon, _you have been identified as vessel used in a criminal enterprise.  This is Imperial Patrol Alpha Two Niner, shut down your hyperdrive and prepare to be boarded.  Disregarding this communication will result in your engines being targeted and you will be forcibly dropped into normal space.”_

“What are we going to do?”  Agravaine was beginning to look a bit panicked. 

Suzie laughed.

They ignored her.

“They most likely pinged our transponder when we left orbit, and passed along the information to ImpPat.”  Garrett was working the controls of the freighter.  He was making evasive manoeuvres, the ship shaking and shuddering around them. 

Suzie wrestled the restraints around her to avoid being thrown from her seat.  She kept silent, although she wanted nothing more than to cheer the patrol ship on.  Being boarded might have meant she ended up in custody, but that was far better than what these bastards had planned.

Then they could get on with saving Rima.

“IFV _designated_ Typhon, _you will cease your attempts to escape.  We have ships on their way to intercept you and will do so before you can reach your destination.  You cannot escape.  Shut down your hyperdrive immediately and prepare to be boarded.”_

“How do they know where we’re going?” Agravaine shouted.

“They’re bluffing.  They can’t know.”

“Of _course_ they know,” Suzie interjected.  “You and your accomplices haven’t been at all subtle.”

“Just what _do_ they know?” Agravaine snapped.  With all the sharp movements of the ship around them, he was looking decidedly space sick.

Suzie couldn’t stop the eye roll that question deserved, but she wasn’t about to answer.  After all, the sequence of events that had led up to this hadn’t been all that obvious unless one had most of the facts.  They’d seriously underestimated Torchwood, and now they were going to pay the price for it.

Agravaine was up and out of his seat despite the uncertain footing, looming over her threateningly.  Suzie simply stared up at him, letting the inner smirk she’d been hiding come out and play.  He raised his hand, meaning to strike her, but a sudden pitching of the deck had him flailing into the wall.

She laughed again.  This time she wasn’t ignored.

“How do they know?” Garrett barked. He wasn’t looking back, but at least a little bit of his attention was on her.

“They know because they aren’t stupid,” she snarked back.  “Everything you and your accomplices have done has left a trail, and it didn’t take a genius to follow it!”

“Well, shit.”  Garrett actually sounded impressed.  “She might have a point there.”

Agravaine picked himself up.  “And just how are we going to get out of this, then?”

“Don’t think we are,” Garrett answered easily.  “If ImpPat has us in their sights, there really isn’t much we can do but run as far away as possible, and in the opposite direction from where they think we’re going.”

“We need to get the ring back to Lucy and Grant,” Agravaine pointed out.

“And we’re not gonna be able to do that ImpPat knows where we’re going.  We’re won’t be able to get within two planetary systems of our base if they’re on the look-out for us.”

The other man seemed to be contemplating Garrett’s words.  “Then what do you suggest?”

“I suggest we get the hell out of here and go to ground somewhere Torchwood won’t think to look for us.  Lucy’s plan is gonna be a wash unless we can regroup somewhere and come up with something else.”

“We’ll need to contact them and let them know.”

The freighter shook once more, nearly tossing Agravaine to the floor.  This was a different thing, and Suzie wondered if the patrol wasn’t shooting at them now.

Garrett was suddenly a flurry of action, his hands dancing over the control panels, one knee jammed against the steering yoke to hold the ship fairly steady.  He cut off the speaker, where the patrol ship was once again warning them to leave hyperspace or else they would fire again. 

Suzie’s heart sunk once more.  She’d thought they were going to be stopped, and it looked as if they were going to be running away instead.  If they escaped the patrol, there was no telling where they would end up.

Garrett had a hand on the yoke now, and he was twisting it almost violently to the left. The entire ship listed in that direction, and Suzie found Agravaine falling into the seat next to hers, the man grasping onto the restraints as if that was going to keep him in his seat.  She had the urge to pry his hands loose and let centrifugal force do its job, but knew that would only make things harder on her once they were away.

Over the sound of the engines straining to keep on the course that Garrett was forcing it onto, Suzie could just make out the man speaking.  He must have been talking to either Lucy or Ward, warning them that they wouldn’t be making their rendezvous at the Library.

They were going to get away.

Her only hope now was that she would be going to where they were keeping Rima.  Because it looked as if Torchwood was going to fail in getting them out of this.

No.

She had to keep hoping that, somehow, Jack and Ianto would find them.  Suzie couldn’t allow herself to give up, even though things were looking very bad at the moment.

She thought of Peter, left behind on Proxima Prime, with no idea of what had happened to either her or Rima.  Would he eventually go to Torchwood?  Peter had been aware of his previous life as Owen Harper, and had often said they should make themselves known, but Suzie hadn’t wanted to out of fear of what Jack and Ianto would do.   It had turned out that she hadn’t had to worry at all.

But this was a betrayal.  She’d stolen the Master’s ring.  They’d trusted her, and she’d abused that trust. 

She was so ashamed of her actions, but at the same time Suzie knew she wasn’t the first of them to have done something like this in order to save a loved one.  Toshiko had done the same thing, back during those halcyon days of chasing aliens through the streets of Old Cardiff. 

Suzie missed it.  She just had been too afraid to reach out for it once more.

Now, she was in a mess.  And she had to trust that her old bosses would do everything in their power to find her, even if it was just to get that damned ring back.

Suzie would have to wait.  It would be hard, but she could do it. 

Jack and Ianto would come.  She had to believe that.

 

 


	34. Chapter 34

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things in this chapter completely disregard what happened in "The Husbands of River Song". As much as I enjoyed the episode, not only did I write this before that happened, but at that point I just wasn't as much a fan of Twelve as I am Eleven. I also took as canon the events of the short, "Night and the Doctor", where it was stated that Eleven was taking River to see the Singing Towers. 
> 
> Also, as a warning, there are a couple of things in this that might be just a little disturbing.

 

**_1 September 5192 (Earth Standard Date)_ **

**_The Library_ **

**_(The Present)_ **

****

The Doctor was exhausted, but he couldn’t allow himself to rest.

It had taken him a bit longer to get everything set up, but he was now ready to bring Merlin back from the Central Data Core.  This time there wouldn’t be any chance of him burning himself out in using his own brain as the extra memory needed to get Merlin out of the core and back to the real world. 

It was also obvious that his son wanted to return, which in a way surprised the Time Lord.  Merlin had missed his mother, so much that Phillip had considered that he might have been behind the deaths of all the Vashta Nerada in the Library in order to bring her back. 

That hadn’t been the case, and the Doctor was pitifully grateful.  He knew that Phillip felt the same way; Merlin was his nephew, even if it wasn’t by blood, and hadn’t wanted to think badly of him. 

Because the equipment had been left to basically rot, he’d had to replace a lot of the wiring, and there turned out to be an issue with a lack of power getting to the system.  He’d managed to track it to a short in the cabling, and he’d had to go and scrounge for some more. 

The hardest part had been retrieving the headset and connectors.

Seeing River like that…it was so directly opposite from the last time he’d seen her, when they’d visited the Singing Towers together.  River had been her usual vivacious self, beautiful in her intelligence, sparkling in ways many of his other companions and loved ones hadn’t.  They’d had such a good time there, and if the Doctor had been honest, if he hadn’t been dreading that small vacation together he would have taken her there much earlier. 

He could still feel the tears on his cheeks as they’d stood on that balcony, listening to the Towers and their ethereal beauty, the soft music that echoed out over the valley haunting in its simplicity. 

She’d asked, of course.  River had asked why he was crying, and he’d made something up…he couldn’t even recall what that was now. 

She’d come to the Library the very next day; or at least it had been the next day temporally.  There’d still been that thing with the dragon eggs, and the Doctor had fervently wished he could have shared that adventure with her as well.

He had to remind himself that the body on that bench wasn’t his wife.  That her soul was long gone.  Perhaps she’d been reincarnated out there, somewhere in the universe, but chances were he’d never find her.  The vast majority of reincarnated souls never remembered their previous lives; those attached to the Harkness-Jones family were the exception, connected to them through blood and magic and something the Doctor would never be able to identify.  Having her back would be impossible.

He wasn’t at all sure he _deserved_ to have her back, if he was honest with himself.

The brittle hair that had once been so smooth to his touch crackled slightly as he’d removed the crown-like headgear, lifting it carefully away as the dry fibres broke and caught in his fingers, making his skin crawl.  Anyone else, and he might not have been so disturbed, but this was different.  This was someone he’d loved.  Yes, River had been one of many, but she’d been the first to give him a family since he’d lost his first one on Gallifrey.  There was something about her that called to this particular regeneration, but he knew he’d always miss her wit and flirtiness, no matter who came after.

The connectors were a different proposition.  One of her hands had completely relaxed, and he was able to pull it away easily.  The second though proved difficult, and he almost lost his nerve when he came to the conclusion that he was going to have to break one of her fingers to get her to release it.

Reminding himself that this wasn’t River, that she was long gone, was the only way he was able to get through what he thought of a horrific desecration of the body of the woman he still loved.

“I would ask if you were alright,” came a tired voice behind him, “but you’d only lie and tell me you were.”

The Doctor didn’t turn.  He couldn’t face Phillip.  Instead, he stepped back from the body, the headgear tucked under one arm, the cable connectors held tightly in his hands.  “It had to be done.”

“If you’d awakened me, I would have done it for you.”

The Doctor was touched by the offer, but in his hearts he’d known this was a task he’d needed to complete on his own.  “You needed to rest.”

There was no answer to that, but the Doctor heard Phillip moving from where he’d curled up in the corner of the control room to sleep.  He’d been out for about twelve hours, give or take, and it had never once occurred to the Time Lord to disturb him. 

“I’m feeling better,” the immortal commented instead.  “Is there anything I can do to help?  What are you doing, anyway?”

“I spoke to Cal while you were sleeping, and it turns out Merlin was saved into the Data Core.  I’m going to use this equipment to get him out.  Unfortunately, it’s taken me a bit longer to get things fixed, so we’re running a bit behind schedule.”  It had been a bit frustrating, knowing that it was going to be longer than he’d thought, but the Doctor had wanted to make certain everything was right.  He wasn’t about to risk his only son’s life on faulty equipment.

It made him wonder just how River had managed to get everything set up in the very limited amount of time she’d had.

There was a sigh, and it sounded very much relieved.  “Can you get him out without frying your mind in the process?”

The Doctor plopped the headgear down onto the console along with the large, bulky power connections.  Pulling out his sonic screwdriver, he began scanning them, to make certain they didn’t need anything done to them.  “Should do,” he answered absently.  “This isn’t like last time, when we were dealing with thousands of minds gumming up the matrix.  It’s only Merlin, so while it’ll probably give me a headache I’ll recover quickly.”

He had to admit, River had done some good work in the short time she’d had.  There was a single loose connection in the headgear, but it was easily repaired.  The connectors were just fine as they were, but he tweaked them a little to correct a fluctuation issue that might have made his headache just that bit worse. 

“I have Cal monitoring Lucy and Ward,” he added as he worked.  “They’re in the upper levels, but Cal is worried that it’s only a matter of time before they get the idea to search for us lower down.  Lucy’s been frying the Vashta Nerada with her magic, and it’s agitating them even more.”  He sighed, finally turning to regard his friend.

Phillip looked considerably better than before.  His face was back to its normal colour, and his eyes were more of their usual ice-blue than the darker blue they’d been when he’d been drained of his magic.  While the Doctor wasn’t touching him, he was certain his body temperature would now be back to close to its chilly average. 

“I’m worried about Merlin,” he confided.  “According to Cal, he’s going to be coming back to the same place Cal had saved him from, which is going to put him too close to Lucy and Ward’s ship for my comfort.  There also isn’t any sort of guarantee that his magic would be at its usual levels, so it’s possible he’s going to be practically defenceless.”

Phillip cursed.  “What if I was there when he came back?”

That was something that the Doctor had considered as he’d worked.  “It’s a good idea, but are you strong enough to make it past not only the Vashta Nerada, but Lucy and Ward as well?”

“Honestly, I don’t think I’d have a problem with the Vashta Nerada.  I think we’ve proved that they don’t like the cold I can generate, plus I should have enough light to hold them at bay.  However, I would have to be able to take out Ward before he could shoot me with his non-magic bullets again, and then there’s Lucy…and I’m not ashamed to admit she’s much stronger than I am.  But we have to give Merlin his best chance, and if me being there is what it takes, then that’s what I’ll do.”  One corner of his mouth curved upward into a smirk.  “And I _have_ been known to be sneaky in my time.”

 _That_ was an understatement, and the Doctor said so.

That earned him a sharp chuckle.  “How quickly will you be ready to bring Merlin back through?”

“About another fifteen minutes or so.” 

The Doctor suddenly had an epiphany.

He spun back toward the control console.  He could see River, Merlin and Cal crowded together on what looked like a sofa, looking equal parts pensive and hopeful.  “How far away is the teleport where Merlin came through from the TARDIS?  And are the Vashta Nerada near that same route?” he asked.

It was obvious from the sudden cool air against his skin that Phillip had joined him at the console.  “Merlin can operate the TARDIS?” he enquired, grasping the Doctor’s plan immediately.

“Of course he can,” he answered, scoffing at the patently silly question.  “Merlin learned to fly the TARDIS before he could walk.”

He didn’t add that it had been River who’d insisted their son learn. 

Phillip was nodding, not even affected by the Doctor’s scorn.  “We can use the TARDIS to get back here, and not risk running into either Lucy or Ward, or the Vashta Nerada providing I can get past them to reach it.  Plus, it would give us something more to work with.”

“They’re waiting,” the Doctor mused.  “They have accomplices, and they’re waiting for them to come back with that ring of the Master’s.  Everything they need is here, so our best bet is going to be to get the Darkhold away from them, and then get them to leave the Library.”

“I know you can’t sense it,” Phillip pointed out, “but I’ve noticed a build-up of magic.  It’s not as bad down here, but the upper levels are most likely beginning to reek of it.  I think they’re getting ready to act as soon as that ring arrives…if it does.  As I said, I made certain their codes weren’t correct, plus the last one is a special code that will trigger a lockout of Torchwood’s computer systems.  Using any of them is going to alert Melinda that something’s wrong.  And you can bet she’d be calling Jack the moment that happens…if Jack isn’t involved already.  Surely Arthur would have noticed that Merlin is missing, and Clint won’t sit still for long when I don’t check in with him, especially now that he’s pregnant.”

The Doctor grinned.  “Congratulations!”

“Thank you.” The immortal looked just a little smug, not that the Time Lord could blame him for it.

“So, there’s a chance that Torchwood knows something is going on by now.”  They could certainly use some back-up.

“I would think so.  If not now, it would be soon.”

Cal spoke, _“The TARDIS is two levels up and three buildings away.  Currently, there aren’t any Vashta Nerada in that direction, they’ve retreated to swarm near Lucy, but I can’t promise there won’t be soon especially if they sense movement in the area.”_

The Doctor frowned.  That was a bit of a distance, but they did need the TARDIS, even if it wasn’t to stop those two maniacs from getting away with what they were planning.  To be honest, he felt unsure of even sending Phillip up to meet Merlin, because of the obstacles between the immortal and his son.  Phillip might have gotten as much of his strength back as he could with just sleep and no food, but that wouldn’t mean a thing under the wrong circumstances.  The Vashta Nerada would devour him just as easily as anyone else, if they found him.

At the same time, if Merlin came back and didn’t have access to his magic right away, there would be no way he could escape from either the Vashta Nerada or Lucy and Ward.  He’d be dead meat, quite literally.  Having Phillip there would at least give him a fighting chance in case he ran into something he couldn’t handle.

 _“Do you want me to go to the TARDIS, Dad?”_ Merlin asked.

He glanced at Phillip.  The immortal appeared calm, but then the Doctor knew he had the best poker face there was.  “Is that what you want to do?”

“It makes the most sense,” Phillip answered. 

The Doctor stifled a sigh, because he was correct…it _did_ make the most sense.  “Phillip is going to be there when you re-corporate, in case you come through without your magic.” 

Merlin looked concerned, but he nodded in acquiescence.

Phillip didn’t say anything.  Instead, he made his way to his rucksack, where he retrieved his torch.  “Are you going to be fine here on your own?”

The Doctor heard the words that he _wasn’t_ adding to that question: _with her._

“I’ll be fine.  You’re the one who has to worry about what you’re going to be running into.”

“I won’t lie.  I don’t like the idea of going back up through the Library and taking the chance of running into the Vashta Nerada.  But it needs to be done, and you need to stay here and finish what you’re doing.”  His eyes met the Doctor’s and he said, “If something happens to me – “

“You’re going to be fine.”

“Doctor…you know that might not be true.”

“But it’s the only outcome I’m going to accept.”

He didn’t want to be as pragmatic as Phillip was being.  It was a failing of his, this he knew, but he wasn’t about to accept that his friend could very well be going to his ultimate death.  Phillip was immortal, but he could still be killed under the right circumstances, and being eaten by the Vashta Nerada certainly qualified.

 _“One of the security cameras will show you the way,”_ Cal replied.  “ _Another will stay and watch out for the Doctor.  I will also make him aware when you reach your destination.”_

Phillip smiled slightly.  “Thank you, Cal.”

_“You are welcome, Phillip.”_

“I think what frightens me the most,” Phillip whispered, “is not seeing Clint or our children again.  Not ever meeting the child we created together.”

It was a very real possibility, but the Doctor didn’t want to even think about that.

He reached over and rested a hand on Phillip’s shoulder.  Yes, the chill against his palm was reassuring.  “You will.”

That got him a short, emphatic nod, and then Phillip was gone, back toward the upper levels of the Library…where their enemies were. 

The Doctor was terrified for him.

But he got back to work.  He had to be ready for when Phillip got to the teleport. 

 

 


	35. Chapter 35

 

**_1 September 5192 (Earth Standard Date)_ **

**_Doctor Moon, in orbit around the Library_ **

****

It was a bit cramped within the small listening post, but they made it work.

Ianto wasn’t a fan of it, to be honest.  The Doctor Moon might not have been a naturally occurring satellite, but that didn’t mean it didn’t act as one on the planet below.  It also had been constructed to resemble a natural moon, with a lunar landscape overlaying the shell that held the Library’s main processors and primary virus check.

Within the virtual realm that had been set up by Felman Lux for his daughter, Charlotte, Doctor Moon appeared in a human form, protecting the data stream that was now known as Cal and making certain things were running at optimum efficiency.  All of that was done wirelessly, and while most of all of the information processing was down within the moon itself, all access was through the Library, and not through the station that had been set up on the outer surface of Doctor Moon by Torchwood, when the Library had been abandoned to the Vashta Nerada.

The post had been set up to be automatic. There were various maintenance people with access, but that was about it; it wouldn’t do for the satellites to go down, and for Torchwood to not have any sort of warning of trespassers to the Library.  It was simply far too dangerous for anyone to go down to the surface; not just for them, but there was a very real risk of inadvertently bringing back ‘hitchhikers’ with them, if they happened to survive long enough to collect any sort of loot.  The Vashta Nerada below were particularly malicious, and it wouldn’t do for them to escape their so-called forests. 

Clint had immediately taken one of the chairs in front of the banks of controls, familiarising himself with the set-up, fingers brushing over switches and dials as his quick eyes absorbed the workings of the system.  Ianto knew his son was the technical one in the family, and would be able to suss things out quickly.  The dragon had every confidence in Clint’s ability to figure out things.

Lisa was standing just behind him, looking uncomfortable.  She was fiddling with the torch she was holding, her silver-green eyes darting from Clint, then to each and every member of the team who was milling about in the close quarters. 

Ianto wished she wasn’t there. However, he had to respect her _need_ to be there, and her knowledge of their artefact.  Lisa might not have ever seen the Darkhold back as Morgana le Fay, but she was the one who was the most familiar with it.  She was also as worried about Phillip as the rest of them.

“What can you tell us, son?” Jack asked, as he squeezed around one of Mar-Von’s men to stand beside Ianto.  Fingers brushed the dragon’s hand, and Ianto couldn’t help but grasp them in his own.

“From what I’m seeing here,” Clint reported, “most of the Vashta Nerada are located in the upper areas of the Library.  I…don’t see any indication of landed ships or anything, but that doesn’t really mean much.  There are plenty of places down there where a ship could hide.  There have been a couple of disruptions of the sensor network around the planet, but unfortunately I can’t tell if they were coming or going.”

“The TARDIS isn’t anywhere here on the base,” Jack said.  “Are there internal sensors here?”

Clint poked at the console.  “Yeah…there were chronometric readings within the base.  I’m thinking one set is the Doctor coming, and the second he’s leaving.”

“They most likely took the TARDIS down to the Library,” Ianto replied.

“Yeah,” Jack agreed.  “That’s what I’m thinking as well.”

“We’re going to need to access the teleport system down to the Library,” the dragon pointed out.  “The one thing I’m concerned about is that Cal will decide to ‘save’ us before we even get there.”

“Just means that Melinda needs to break out that personal teleportation device she brought along with her,” Jack said with a grin.

“That woman is scary,” Ianto commented.  “She’s worse than I am.”

“Nope.”  His mate wrapped his arms about Ianto.  “You’re still worse.”

“He has a point, Tad,” Clint confirmed.

Ianto simply rolled his eyes and put up with the teasing.

It didn’t last long, and Jack was pulling away.  The dragon missed his closeness as much as he ever did.  “Let’s get going.  We have some family to rescue.”  He turned back to Clint.  “Can you get any other sort of life signs on the equipment?”

Ianto didn’t think so; as far as he was aware the equipment was programmed to only monitor the Vashta Nerada. 

That supposition was upheld by their son’s answer.  “No, I’m only able to pick up the Vashta Nerada.”

“That’s a serious blind spot,” Jack said seriously.  “We’re going to need to open that up once this was over.”

“To be honest,” Arthur spoke up from just behind Jack, “when we set up this post we were only concerned with keeping an eye out if anyone came in by ship, and if something went on with the Vashta Nerada.  If, by chance anyone made it away from the Library, we would have a patrol waiting for them.  We actually didn’t expect anyone to escape, really.”  He shrugged.  “And, if a certain set of parameters was met, then a Director Level event would be called.  It would then be up to the current Director to read anyone in on what was happening.  The times that we did have incursions here in my tenure as Director, I usually ignored anyone going in, knowing that they wouldn’t get past the Vashta Nerada.  And no one ever did.”

Ianto could understand.  The Vashta Nerada were, quite possibly, the best sort of security system, in that they devoured everyone that set foot in the Library.  Ianto had to admit, it wouldn’t have occurred to him that someone would have been able to destroy most of them, given their nature and how they existed within the books of the Library itself, coming out into the shadows to hunt.  The only way the dragon could have seen it was if someone had set off an explosion, but that would have also taken out most of the Library with the Vashta Nerada, which would have defeated the purpose of gaining access.

No one had counted on magic.  And they really should have.  It was something they would have to consider in the future.

Jack sighed.  “I would have done the same thing.  No one was ever going to come back from the Library, and on the off-chance they did it would have been a simple matter to track whoever it was down and make certain they hadn’t brought any of the Vashta Nerada with them…and if they had, chances were they would have been killed onboard their own ship.  I really don’t think there was a right way and a wrong way to do in this situation.”

He then clapped his hands together, to get the attention of everyone in the cramped post.  “Let’s get this show on the road.  Melinda, we’re going to need that portable teleport you so handily have with you.  We can’t trust the teleport system down there, after what happened before.  Commander Mar-Von, you and your people will be our first line of defence.  Those light cannons you have are going to be our best chance to keep the Vashta Nerada off our asses.  Clint,” he turned back to their son, “get us coordinates where we can avoid the Vashta Nerada for as long as possible.  I’d hate to transport down right in the middle of a swarm.”

“On it, Boss,” Clint answered smartly, his hands on the sensor controls.

It had been a very long time since Ianto had heard that sort of tone from their eldest son, and the dragon didn’t think he liked it very much.  It was more Clint Barton than Clint Jones, and while he could appreciate Clint respecting the chain of command that had apparently put Jack in charge, it just didn’t seem appropriate to their snarky, fun-loving child.

From Jack’s expression, he hadn’t much cared for it, either.

Still, his mate kept on addressing the rest of the team.  “We’ll go down in groups.  Mar-Von and his people first, to keep the area clear.  Then myself, Arthur, and Melinda.  Lastly, Ianto will bring Lisa and Sabrina.  That way each group might have a chance to get the rest of us out of trouble if something happens.  And Clint, you’re our overwatch.  Keep on those sensors and let us know what’s going on.”

“And also make us aware of any news from Hubworld,” Ianto added.  “Hopefully we’ll hear something soon about the alert I had put out on the _Typhon_.”  His eyes caught Melinda’s, and he knew he had to say something about the suppositions he’d come up with, back on Hubworld.  “Also, I think this might be some sort of attempt to restart HYDRA.”

He got several confused looks, but Melinda’s eyes widened in what, for her, was a gasp of shock.  “Are you certain?” she demanded.

“No,” the dragon admitted.  He pulled the Tarot card from his pocket.  “But I have this, and the name of that ship… _Typhon_ was the name of one of the mythical Hydra’s parents.  And I can’t help thinking I know the name Garrett Paxton from somewhere…”

Melinda’s eyes then narrowed in anger.  “And who is that?” Her voice dropped, which was a sure sign of her mood.

“He’s the Captain-Owner of the _Typhon._ I _do_ know him, don’t I?”

“You never met him,” Melinda answered.  “But John Garrett was a former SHIELD agent, who turned out to be HYDRA.  He was Grand Ward’s SO and mentor, and he was also what was once called the Clairvoyant.  He was the one who was ultimately responsible for a great deal of pain and suffering before he went mad due to being injected with the raw GH325 without the same failsafes that went into Phillip’s resurrection…not that those actually did a lot of good.”

As Melinda spoke, memories began to fall into place for Ianto.  “He’d been Phillip’s friend, and had had him tortured to learn how he’d been brought back to life.”

“Shit,” Jack breathed.  “It seems like this is all about our pasts coming back to haunt us.”

Just how deep did this go?  How many of their former enemies had been reincarnated to move against them?  Ianto knew that Torchwood had made a lot of them over the millennia, as had SHIELD.  And that didn’t count the ones that had attempted to take Camelot from Arthur when he’d been King.

Thank the gods and goddesses and Great Dragons that Lisa has been born into their family instead of in another form.  Having Morgana le Fay as an enemy would have been just one more disaster.

“If that’s true,” Arthur spoke up, “then there’s a very real possibility that they might find out about Lisa, and approach her as well.” 

Lisa had gone paler than usual.  “I swear to you, Arthur, that I wouldn’t turn against you again!”  Her voice was trembling, and Clint reached out and took her hand in his, attempting to comfort her.

Arthur’s own face was fond.  “I know that, believe me.  You aren’t Morgana anymore…you’re my Aunt Lisa, and I know you wouldn’t ever intentionally hurt me, or Merlin, or Rory.  I trust you more than you think I should.”

With a small sob, Lisa was across the room and was throwing her arms around Arthur, who returned the hug with equal fervour.  When Lisa had first admitted who she really was to Arthur and Merlin, both of them had easily forgiven her for her past lives’ sins, and had accepted her as Lisa just as easily.  They’d just been glad to have her back in their lives, and what she’d done before hadn’t mattered to them at all.  They’d been more than willing to let her be Lisa, and not Morgana.

Arthur pulled away slightly.  “Are you going to be alright doing this?”

Lisa nodded, her face determined. “I have to.  It’s the right thing to do.”

Ianto rested a hand on each of their shoulders.  “Then let’s get to this.  It’s time to bring our family home.”

He was including the Doctor in that, too.  Even if the Time Lord didn’t think he was.

But before they even had a chance to take a single step, _something_ happened.

Ianto felt it; it was a powerful burst of magic, and it slammed through him like a tidal wave, knocking him to his knees and forcing a cry of agony from his lips.  The dragon fought for dominance, and he had to push it back down, knowing he didn’t dare transform here.  There wasn’t enough room, and it would put everyone in danger if he did.

It was a struggle, but he managed.

It didn’t hurt that the burst was gone as quickly as it had arrived.

Someone had an arm around him, supporting him, and he didn’t need to look to know it was his mate.  Jack’s Vortex-tinged presence in his head was too strong for it to have been anyone else. “It was magic,” he managed to say, his voice sounding rough to his ears.

“Yeah,” Jack agreed.  “It took down both Lisa and Clint.”

Ianto frowned. He could understand himself, who had a very tiny bit of magic he could call upon. And Lisa, even though she wasn’t that magical in this incarnation, she still had the senses and instincts that she’d been born with in her first life, and was a dragon to boot.  But Clint…?  No, his son didn’t have an ounce of magic in him except what he used to change his form, so any sort of magical burst shouldn’t have affected him that badly.

“I think it was more the baby,” Clint’s voice answered, hoarse with pain.

Ianto glanced up, and saw his eldest son, being supported by Melinda.  It looked as if he’d fallen from the chair when the burst hit, and one arm was wrapped protectively around his swollen abdomen. 

“It felt like I was going into labour for a second,” he added.  “But I think this little one is going to take after their other father in the magical department.”

That did make sense.  Phillip was powerful, and any magic could have very well have been passed along.  Ianto just wasn’t certain how Phillip was going to feel about that; he might have accepted his magic, and knew how to use it, but that didn’t necessarily mean that he liked having it in the first place.  “Lisa?” the dragon enquired.

His daughter was currently huddled in Arthur’s lap, and he was holding her tightly, a fiercely protective expression on his face.  “I’m alright,” she murmured.  “Something’s definitely happened down in the Library, though.”

A beeping sound came from the control console, and Melinda helped Clint to his feet. He staggered slightly as he got up, but made it back into the chair, his eyes searching for the reason for the alarm.  “We’ve had another major kill-off of the Vashta Nerada,” he reported.

“I need to know the exact coordinates of the epicentre of that burst,” Jack ordered.  “Melinda, get that teleport set up.  You, me, and Arthur are going down there – “

“Director,” Mar-Von interrupted, “it is too dangerous – “

Ianto happened to agree with him.

But Jack plowed on.  “There won’t be any Vashta Nerada in the area anymore, and I’m hoping the element of surprise will be on our side.  But I want you and your people to stand by in case things get too hairy, too fast, and we need you to come down, guns blazing.”

“And whoever killed the Vashta Nerada may still be in the area,” the Kree argued.  “According to Agent Jones, this has just occurred.  It is likely the murderers are in the vicinity of the attack.”

“He’s right.”  Arthur took a step forward, his hand flexing on the pommel of Excalibur the only indication of his own need to get down to the Library immediately.  “We have no idea what we’re dealing with down there.”

“We all go, Jack,” Ianto said, trying to soothe his now-frustrated mate.  “You know that’s the best thing in the circumstances.”

Jack huffed.  “Fine. You’re right, as usual.  We go with the original plan: Mar-Von and his people, then Arthur, Melinda, and me; followed by Ianto, Sabrina, and Lisa.”

Ianto was glad that Jack had seen sense.  His mate was an excellent leader, even though he sometimes went head-first into a situation without enough intelligence to deal with what they might find.  The dragon knew Jack’s mind, that he was immortal and would always come back from anything that was thrown at him, and that meant he could take risks that he felt others couldn’t.  And deciding to take Arthur and Melinda with him, their two strongest fighters, had been a good idea…if Jack hadn’t already decided that throwing his own life away was an excellent notion.

The dragon, of course, did not agree with him, but even three thousand years hadn’t been enough to disavow his mate of such ideas.  He doubted anything ever would.

“The teleport is ready,” Melinda cut in.  Her face looked as stoic as it usually did, but Ianto could see the gleam of her inner excitement at seeing some action in her dark eyes.

The portable device was nothing more than a circular membrane placed in a clear area of the floor.  Melinda held the control, a small hand-held pad that was dwarfed even in Melinda’s hand.

“I have the coordinates,” Clint called out.  He rattled off a series of numbers, which Melinda entered into the control.  A small beep marked the moment when the teleport was ready.

It sent a shiver down Ianto’s nerves.  That tiny sound meant danger, and finally discovering what had happened to his family.  He found himself praying that they were still alive, that they hadn’t succumbed to the Vashta Nerada or to Lucy and Ward. 

He watched as Mar-Von and his pair of troopers stepped onto the teleport membrane, back to back to back, forming a triangle, their guns at the ready and their enormous shoulder-mounted torches turned on.  They looked as if they could take on anyone, and he trusted them to take control of whatever was going on down in the Library.

In a flash, they were gone, and Jack, along with Melinda and Arthur, were taking their place.

There was a faint click on the comms, and Mar-Von’s voice reported, _“The perimeter is clear.  We have, however, discovered Director Coulson and Second Williams-Song.”_

 

 


	36. Chapter 36

 

**_1 September 5192 (Earth Standard Date)_ **

**_The Library_ **

**_(The Present)_ **

****

Merlin’s entire body tingled as he went to his knees on the teleport pad, his magical senses feeling overloaded and his time sense suddenly slamming back into place.

Goddess, it felt as if he was whole once more.

If only he didn’t also feel as if he wanted to vomit.

He hadn’t expected his re-incorporation to be so rough, and had to wonder if it was more to do with his body being rebuilt within the data stream than anything with the actual teleport apparatus.  Still, it hadn’t been at all pleasant, and he wished he could just curl up and sleep for a week.

He would have known the hand that rested on his shoulder by either its slight chill or the magic that thrummed within it, but instead he got the combination of the two.  His head banging, he raised his eyes and blinked up into the ice-blue of his uncle-by-mating’s gaze.  Phillip’s skin was washed out in the pale blue light of the cold fire sphere that was hovering over the pair of them, banishing the shadows that were the home of the Vashta Nerada, but Merlin thought the only person he would have been gladder to see in that moment would have been his mate.

“Welcome back,” Phillip murmured, offering him a hand up.

Merlin staggered to his feet, and it was as if his skin wasn’t quite his own. He was certain that would fade with a little time.  His mind had simply gotten used to being a stream of information instead of being held within a corporeal form, and now he had to get everything to function together once more.

“Thanks,” he said gratefully.  “It’s good to be back.”

He took a good look around at his surroundings…what he could see of them, at least.  The chamber he was in was large and the walls were rounded, with various types of chairs and at least one sofa.  In the centre of the room, right underneath an enormous skylight that framed the palely glowing shape of the Doctor Moon, was a donut-shaped desk, large, with the unmistakable lumps of computer terminals spaced at intervals on its surface.  Merlin thought it must have been some sort of circulation desk, where people could go in order to locate the books they wanted to access.

Off to the side, what had once been an anti-gravity cart had crashed to the hardwood flooring, spilling books all over.  Coating the area were the dust-like corpses of thousands of Vashta Nerada, and Merlin couldn’t help but shudder. 

He loved books.  He had a rather nice little library at home, and at their residence on New Avalon, but he thought he’d most likely keep to electronics for a while.  It would be some time before he’d stop considering physical books creepy.

“Are you alright to move on?” Phillip asked.  “It’s best we not stay in one place too long.”

Merlin nodded.  “I’m ready.  Let’s get going.”

A security sphere hovered just within the circle of magical light, and it floated toward Merlin as if to take a close look at him.  He figured it would be the data ghost of his mother, making certain he was fine.  He smiled into the camera lens, and then nodded in acknowledgement of the scrutiny.   The sphere bobbed once, as if nodding in return, and then moved away.

There looked to be six corridors leading off from the circulation room, and the sphere took them down the third on the right.  It was a glassed-in walkway between a pair of buildings, and once again the light from the moon joined with the magical light that Phillip had conjured to brighten the way for them. 

It was unnaturally quiet.  Only the slight hum of the security camera leading the way resonated around the glassed-in walkway.  It was about two hundred feet long, and soon they were back within another darkened building, making their way through library stacks filled with even more books.

One of the things Merlin had been somewhat concerned about when Felman Lux had said he was going to be building the Library was his announcement that every single one of the books would be printed especially for the Library, reproduced from the greatest literature in the Human Empire.  Instead of using manufactured materials that would last through millennia, Felman had opted to cut down entire forests to recreate the look and feel of real books.  Of course, that had back-fired, but even before the Vashta Nerada the use of such tactics had done things to Merlin’s Druid soul.  There had been so many books out there, surely he could have collected them already printed? 

Felman had wanted everything to be new.  He’d claimed that, at the rate people would be using the Library would mean that any older books would most certainly deteriorate far more quickly than everything being brand new.  Merlin supposed that it made sense, however, it had still bothered him.  Plus, Felman would be downloading all of those works to the Data Core as well, for Charlotte’s enjoyment, since she couldn’t get out and amid the actual, physical, world in order to read everything she wanted. 

Cal, as she was now known, had loved the Library, outside and in.  The books had been a comfort to her, although she couldn’t touch them.  And Felman would have done anything for his favourite child.

Merlin had still been able to convince Felman to take on some original works, and that had included the Darkhold.  It really hadn’t been all that difficult, because the man had also thought that conservation of knowledge was an admirable goal.  It had been for selfish reasons, though.  Merlin had wanted to get rid of the Darkhold.  He’d have done anything to achieve that.

Now, with the blessing of hindsight, he’d come to realise that it hadn’t been the smartest idea he’d ever had.

It had made sense to him at the time.  Anything to get that evil _thing_ out of his Archives.  At first, he hadn’t even been aware of it, but over centuries it had come prey upon his mind and conscience, needing to be used, and Merlin hadn’t wanted to succumb.

The wizard had often wondered just how his Grandtad Ianto had withstood that inexorable pull.  He thought about asking him if and when they got out of this mess.

“The TARDIS should be just past this area,” Phillip murmured, “if what I’ve been able to gather from Cal through the security sphere.  We’ll need to get back to your father as soon as we can, and then figure out a way to get the Darkhold away from Lucy and Ward.  Or at least go for reinforcements.”

Merlin didn’t want to think about his father, down in the central core room, with the corpse of his mother.  While he’d tried very hard not to pay much attention to its presence, Merlin couldn’t have missed it in the so-called monitor when he’d been within the Data Core.  It had been jarring, especially having the data ghost of his mother standing right next to him.  How was his Dad coping with being in the same room with a person he must have felt he’d failed?  The Doctor hadn’t come out and said it, but Merlin knew his Dad; knew that he’d be feeling as if he should have been able to do something.  But really, it was River Song they were dealing with, and if Merlin knew one thing about his mother was that she could be unstoppable when she was determined.  She’d wanted to save her husband, so that she’d have a chance to meet him, and to have a son with him.  Although his father’s previous incarnation would not have known, River had done it more to give Merlin a life than anything else, and his pleading with her that time could be re-written had been quite possibly the worst thing he could have said under the circumstances.

His father knew that, now.  But, back during his tenth regeneration, he would never have caught her double meaning.  If it had meant her life, River Song would always give her son the chance to live.

She might have been a crap mother in the end, but River had done her best.  And Merlin now knew she’d regretted not giving him as much of her time as she could.

They passed through the stacks like they, themselves, were ghosts.  Phillip could move silently; Merlin less so, but he did understand the need for stealth now.  Somewhere, out there, were two people who could stop them easily, with the anti-magical gun – and Merlin really wanted to know where Ward had gotten that from – and with Lucy’s own magical abilities.

He didn’t even have to ask Phillip if he was aware of the build-up of power.  Lucy had murdered the Vashta Nerada, and was now using that life force as an addition to her own magic.  It would be an integral part of the ceremony to bring the Master back.  It lay heavy in the air, a leaden weight of all those deaths, and it was slick and oily against Merlin’s skin, feeling as if he hadn’t showered in weeks.  It was a disturbing sensation, and the wizard hated it with every fibre of his being.

Magic itself wasn’t good or bad; it was the intention behind its use.  Lucy intended on using the magic generated by the deaths of the Vashta Nerada to regenerate the greatest Time Lord villain of any age, a psychopath who would sooner destroy the universe than to live within it.  That turned this power to evil, and it set Merlin’s teeth on edge. 

He reached out tentatively with his own magic, feeling along the lines of power around him.  The magic hummed and spat against it like a wild thing, and it took everything within him not to completely withdraw.  There had to be a way to make this power unusable to her.  Getting the Darkhold back had to be their priority, because even without the excess power having it would have been incredibly dangerous.  Even if she couldn’t use the deaths around them in her spell, she could easily recreate it with even more deaths.

And there was one thing Merlin was certain of, was that Lucy would not stop until she’d brought the Master back from the dead.

The room with the stacks narrowed into another corridor, this one lined with even more books.  The air within was stifling, and Merlin felt as if he couldn’t breathe.  He had to wonder if it was some sort of claustrophobia.

This hall was a little shorter, but it opened out once more onto another large chamber, this one almost completely empty.  There were some bits of furniture, and a single wall of shelving, but that was all.

The TARDIS stood in the exact centre of the room.

The sentient time machine must have sensed Merlin’s approach, because such a feeling of warmth and happiness filled his mind.  He couldn’t help but grin at seeing her there, the blue of her outer matrix almost purple in the darkness surrounding her.  The wizard itched to run across the floor and put hands on her, to reassure himself of her solidness and protection.

Phillip must have somehow guessed his need, as he pressed a hand against Merlin’s chest, stopping his forward movement.  His uncle-by-mating’s inherent caution curbed Merlin’s impulse, although he didn’t know why Phillip was being that way.

The security sphere suddenly exploded overhead.  A shard of metal clipped Merlin’s cheek, and he hissed at the shock of pain in his face.

There was a snap-hiss of sound, and Phillip’s shield flared into life, its bluish light a slight contrast to the cold fire hovering over their heads.  Merlin barely had time to notice that the shield, once blank in the centre, had been reprogrammed with the eponymous Torchwood ‘T’ and dragon, before he caught sight of Grant Ward entering from another corridor opposite, a sonic blaster in one hand and the anti-magic gun in the other, a blood-red ball of light suddenly pushing away the darkness.

Merlin wanted nothing more than to wipe the smirk from his handsome features.

Lucy was with him.  Her pale eyes were lit with madness, and she clutched the Darkhold to her chest as if it was a child, so precious to her.  The pair of them stepped further into the room, toward the TARDIS…

“We’ve been waiting,” Ward called out.  “Although us finding the TARDIS when the Doctor had claimed you’d come down by transporter was just a bit of a surprise.” One eyebrow went up.  “And Coulson…you’ve apparently changed your companion, unless the Doctor regenerated into his own son somehow.”

Merlin wondered why Cal hadn’t warned them.  Surely, she’d been keeping an eye on Ward and Lucy?  She had eyes all over the Library.  There was no way Cal would have missed those two being there, waiting for them to come for the TARDIS.

Lucy laughed.  “I can tell you’re wondering how we’re here and now where your pet computer thinks we are…well, let’s just say it’s magic and leave it at that.”

There didn’t seem to be a way for magic to make an illusion that a camera would fall for, but then Lucy did have the Darkhold, and that book would have been full of surprises. 

“How did you know?” Merlin hissed. 

Phillip shrugged.  “I didn’t.  But having the TARDIS sitting out there in the open would have been too good a form of bait to let go if they’d located her.”

He gave his uncle-by-mating a glare, which Phillip returned with a raised eyebrow.  Phillip Coulson-Jones was a sneaky bastard, and not afraid to show it.

“Why don’t you come a little closer?” Ward urged.  He waved both of his guns toward them.

Phillip, however, didn’t see inclined to take up the invitation.  “And let you shoot us?  I don’t think so.”

“And you really think some antiquated force shield is going to stop me from doing just that?” 

Fitting action to words, Ward fired both weapons right at them.

However, Phillip had centuries of experience using the shield generator he wore. 

Before Merlin could even react, the immortal had stepped in front of him, shield in position to catch the magical bullet even as he was spinning to escape the blast from the sonic weapon.  The beam slammed into the shield, making a high-pitched singing sound that did nothing for the headache Merlin had had ever since he’d been re-corporated.  The energy flared a little into a multitude of tiny sparks, then subsided back into its usual electric blue.

However, Merlin wasn’t going to give them a chance to attack again.

He called his magic to him.  It thrummed under his skin like his life’s blood – which it was, as Merlin was magical through and through – and with a single word he threw a bolt of green-white light toward the pair at the other end of the room. 

A basic Stun spell.  He wanted to take them alive if he could.  They needed to know more about what was going on, about who their accomplices were, and killing the two would have been counterproductive.

Besides, he was like his father in that respect: not wanting to kill if he could absolutely avoid it.

Lucy deflected the bolt easily.

She was powerful.  Merlin hadn’t lied to the data ghost of his mother when he’d told her that Lucy could, potentially, be nearly as powerful as he was.  And here, in this place of shadows and death, with her madness and the life force of the Vashta Nerada permeating everything, it made her even more dangerous.

But he wasn’t the only one on their side of the room with magic.

Merlin watched as an icicle slammed into Ward’s hand, the one holding the anti-magic gun, shattering not only the man’s bones but tossing the gun somewhere within the shadows that loomed beyond them.  Lucy and Ward had actually been waiting in the dark, which terrified Merlin more than anything.  They hadn’t cared if the Vashta Nerada had found them.  Lucy would have used her power to simply kill any of them that did try to get to them, and have no compunction about it at all.

Ward swore, falling backward in the same direction as the gun, half of his body into the shadow and the other within the area of light that Lucy had put up when they’d stepped into the room.  Ward was up like a shot, cradling his injured hand, the other firing the blaster without seeming to take the time to aim.

The shield caught the blast once more. 

Lucy growled wordlessly, and her own magic came out to play.  One hand flung out toward them, and Merlin tensed, his own magic within him tightening like a coiled spring, ready to counter whatever she threw at them.

It was a fireball, one of the largest that Merlin had ever seen. 

Merlin barely managed to keep the smirk from his face.  This sort of spell was below a wizard of the calibre that Lucy Cole was, and he deflected it into the shelf of books on the far side of the room.

It slammed into the books, setting them afire. 

A part of Merlin mourned the loss of all that knowledge, but there was no choice.  He was aware that any Vashta Nerada who had once lived within them were all gone, already a victim of Lucy’s magic.  It also cast more light onto their confrontation, which would have been a plus if it also didn’t create the very shadows that the voracious beings needed to live within.

Another flash of ice magic flew toward their antagonists, and this one Lucy blocked using the Darkhold itself.  But then, the book was indestructible, and that knife-like shard wouldn’t have done any damage to it.

“Ward!” Phillip called out, taking a step forward, putting himself into Lucy’s direct line of fire. 

Merlin knew what he was doing: giving Merlin a chance to strike back with his superior magic.  The problem with that was that Lucy was playing with a stacked deck, and he wasn’t certain he could overpower her easily.  If he’d had the element of surprise, yes…but not on an even playing field, as it were.

But what came from his uncle-by-mating’s mouth wasn’t what Merlin was expecting.

“You might want to count your shadows!”

Merlin’s hearts froze as his eyes tracked toward Ward. 

The man had two shadows.

Ward’s eyes widened, but that was the only chance he had to react.  A shadow curved up and over him, and within seconds was gone.

So was Ward, replaced by a skeleton that had been picked clean just that fast.

“No!”  Lucy shrieked, jerking away from the corpse of her lover as the bones clattered noisily to the floor, that single word laced with fear and fury and retribution.

And magic.

Merlin felt it, and barely had enough time to put a more powerful shield up in order to protect both him and Phillip from the sheer power in that single word.  It still managed to knock him to his knees, and Phillip onto his arse, his force shield automatically shutting down when it struck the floor at an awkward angle. 

Every single Vashta Nerada that had managed to sneak up on them flared brightly, and then settled to the floor in a cloud of dust.

The life force knifed into Merlin, and he suddenly couldn’t breathe.  He watched as Lucy began to gather up that life, and he knew she was going to use it on them as soon as she had it all within her grasp.

He had to stop her.

Calling upon his own magic and iron will, Merlin battled her for control of that life force.

Lucy was mad.  She had absolutely no filters when it came to her power, but her mind was different.  Merlin could sense it; she was weak-willed, and he realised it was her fatal flaw…she could have been so much more than she was, but she would forever be weakened by her lack of mental strength.  He should have seen it sooner, but he could be honest with himself about it; he’d been so impressed with her magic that anything else had fallen by the wayside.

It explained so much.  She’d been corrupted even without the Darkhold in her possession.  It had to have been someone stronger mentally than her, to so twist her into the shape she was now.  And, with her inherent madness, she really would never gain the fine control a true master wizard needed to practice their craft.

She’d once stolen some of his power, power that she’s used to originally murder the majority of the Vashta Nerada.

There was no reason Merlin couldn’t so the same.

He could see the magical connection to her, glowing darkly within her very being, contaminated by the death magic she’d been channelling for so long.  How she’d kept it hidden, Merlin had no idea, but he suspected it had help from his own naivete over her true nature.

Merlin grabbed onto that connection with both mental hands and _yanked_.

Lucy howled.

He could tell that Phillip was calling upon his own magic beside him, but Merlin couldn’t let himself be distracted by what the immortal was doing.  Instead, he began to pull the magic right out of Lucy.

It struck him like a serpent, plunging its fangs into his hearts, trying to get back to its master and fighting back as hard as it could.

And Merlin prayed.

He prayed to the elder gods he’d once worshipped as a druid, back during his first life in Camelot.

He prayed to the Great Dragons, so very far away from him now.

They were so far away, and in the back of his mind he knew they couldn’t be of any help to him now, but he prayed anyway.

The magic fought; oh, how it fought.  It wanted to be free, and Merlin couldn’t let it.  But he also couldn’t hold it within himself, he was already as full of magic as anyone could be.  No, that power had to go somewhere or else it would tear him apart.

Some of it he passed onto Phillip.  The immortal didn’t want it, struggling against the intrusion, that terror – which had never really gone away – of the magic he’d gained from a mad god with a spear that shouldn’t have ever been granted, pushing back against what Merlin was giving him.

_Trust me._

Merlin didn’t know if he said those two words aloud, but Phillip must have heard them, because suddenly the fear was muted, and the magic Merlin was granting him was being accepted.  Phillip did trust Merlin, in so many ways, and it had only taken that one small request to put to rest any fight left within the ice mage.

The horror did remain, but Phillip would always have that, simply because of the circumstances that had made him the way he was now.

Merlin didn’t dare overload him, but he still had so much left…and if he didn’t get rid of it in a way that Lucy couldn’t regain it, it would burn him out.

There was really only one other place it could go.

With that thought, the magic escaped, finding its new vessel easily.

Darkness settled across Merlin’s mind, and it didn’t matter that they were still in deadly danger.  He simply couldn’t fight it any longer.

His last thoughts were an apology to Phillip, for cursing him with more magic than his uncle-by-mating had ever wanted.

Maybe someday Phillip would forgive him.

 

 


	37. Chapter 37

 

**_1 September 5192 (Earth Standard Date)_ **

**_The Library_ **

****

Travel by portable transporter was only a step above Vortex Manipulator.  Which meant it was a fairly rough ride.

Luckily for Jack, he’d managed to keep his transport legs even though it had been centuries since he’d last used his wrist strap for anything but storing his access codes and family photographs.

The first thing he noticed upon materialising was that it was bitterly cold. So cold he could see his breath.  He was fairly certain that the climate control for the Library couldn’t be _that_ broken. 

He was suddenly very, very afraid.

Mar-Von and his troops had their shoulder-mounted light cannons on full beam, brilliant whiteness exposing every corner of the room they’d appeared in.  it was large, with one entire wall made up of bookshelves and comfortable-looking seats scattered about, covered with a fine layer of dust.  The air smelled slightly of must, but there was also something else: like ozone, as if lightning had gone off in the room, and a patch of bookcase looked scorched as if it had burned.  There was also a thin rime of ice over every surface, which only added to Jack’s fear.

Phillip had obviously let his magic loose in a really big way.

His son-by-mating was usually very controlled when it came to his magic.  He really didn’t like having it, and Jack was aware that it had taken Phillip millennia to get to the place where he could actually use it without having what, for him, was a major freak-out.  He’d locked that part of himself away and it had only been within the last hundred years or so for him to be willing to learn more about it.  Jack was also aware that there had been a time when Phillip had tried to get rid of it, even taking the chance and speaking to Loki about it.  The mad god had only laughed in Phillip’s face.

But now, there was this…this frozen place that chilled Jack beyond just the physical.  Had Phillip faced Lucy Saxon on his own?  Had this been the result?

But no, Mar-Von had claimed to have found both Phillip _and_ Merlin.  Jack forced his shock down deep, pulling the Captain around him like a long-disused disguise, and stepped away from the transport area, to make room for Ianto, Lisa, and Sabrina. 

“Where are they?” Arthur demanding, asking the very thing Jack wanted.

Mar-Von turned enough so his high-powered torch wouldn’t hit any of them in the eyes.  “Director Coulson is in the corner.  Second Williams-Song is there.”  He aimed his light toward the far doorway.

Jack’s heart seized. 

Merlin was laying on the ground, just inside the room. 

Arthur was kneeling beside his mate before Jack could even react, his fingers at Merlin’s neck, checking for a pulse.  “He’s alive.”  His relief was palpable.

“I didn’t dare touch him,” Phillip’s soft voice echoed in the sudden quiet.  Jack’s eyes tracked toward the sound, and he gasped as he finally got a good look at his fellow immortal.

Phillip’s skin was white, pale blue veins like marbling trailing down from his temples and into his neck.  His eyes, normally an icy blue, were clear like fine crystal, with only a glowing golden circle around the irises to separate them from their outer whiteness.  His clothes were encrusted with frost, and as he stood up from the chair he’d been seated in the unmistakable sound of ice cracking filled the room.

“Goddess,” Jack heard Melinda gasp.  He was just as horrified as she was.  “What happened?”

“Lucy was using the life force of the Vashta Nerada to supplement her own magic,” Phillip answered.  “I don’t understand how he did it, but Merlin tried to take all that magic into himself.  Only…he couldn’t hold it all.  He…sent some of it into me.  It did this.”  He raised his hands, and while most people would have thought Phillip was being dispassionate about seeing those snow-white fingers Jack knew differently. 

Phillip was on the edge of an abyss, and about to fall over it into panic.

“I didn’t dare touch Merlin,” he went on.  “I…didn’t want to hurt him.  I could tell he was alive though.  I…sat down over here, not wanting to be close to him in case I…lost control.”

“Phillip!” Lisa cried out. 

Jack hadn’t even heard the teleport activate.

His daughter was moving past Jack, heading toward Phillip.  The ice mage took a step back, trying to ward her off, but she completely ignored him, flinging her arms around his neck and clinging there.

Phillip stilled, but as soon as he remembered that extreme coldness wouldn’t affect her dragon nature he was hugging her back.  He was visibly shaking, clutching Lisa to him as if her very presence was keeping him from shivering into pieces.

“Where’s the Doctor?” Ianto asked. 

“He’s down in the main computer core,” Phillip answered, pulling away from Lisa just enough to address the entire team.  “The plan was we get to the TARDIS and then return for him.”

“Is that where…” Ianto’s questioned petered out, but then he really didn’t need to complete it.

Phillip nodded.

“We need to get all three of you back to Hubworld,” Jack ordered, taking back control.  He had to, or else he might have been throwing a fit.  In Phillip’s expression, he could see that so much had happened, and the one thing Jack wanted to do was get him back to his mate and make certain he was going to be fine.  They’d figure out the issue with Phillip’s magic later, as well as get a full debrief, but now they needed to get away from the Library.

“Dad,” Sabrina called, breaking Jack from his thoughts.

He turned.  His daughter was standing beside another unconscious body, this one of Lucy Saxon.  Nearby, Jack could make out a skeleton, and he shivered.  The Vashta Nerada must have gotten to her accomplice, and she’s set her magic loose to destroy the ones who’d eaten them.  It explained the power surge they’d gotten up at the listening post. 

And, beside Lucy, was a lump of clear ice, through which Jack could just make out the shape of a large book.

The Darkhold.

Jack shivered again, but this time it wasn’t because of the cold.

“Quit fussing.”

The immortal spun on his heel, a smile breaking out over his face as he caught sight of Merlin, being helped to his feet by a very worried Arthur. 

“I wouldn’t fuss if you didn’t get yourself into these messes,” Arthur answered acerbically, although there was sheer relief underlying the words.

Merlin rolled tired eyes at his mate.  “You are such a prat, honestly.”

“Idiot.”

“Clotpole.”

They were looking at each other fondly.  Jack found their insults cute.  Not that he would ever admit that.

He was a witness when Merlin caught his first glimpse at Phillip, and his grandson-by-mating’s face fell when he saw Phillip’s current condition.  “Oh goddess,” he gasped.  “Uncle Phillip, I’m so sorry…”

“You had to stop Lucy.”  Phillip had obviously tried for pragmatism, but everyone in the room could hear the thin thread of panic in the words. 

Lisa must have heard it as well, because she quickly removed the comm from her ear and handed it to the ice immortal.  Phillip accepted in gingerly, as if he was afraid he would break it in his current condition, and put it in his own ear.

Jack could see him visibly relaxing, and knew that was the moment Clint came on the line.  He turned away, addressing the team.  “Let’s get things packed up and onto the TARDIS,” he ordered. “We need to fetch the Doctor and get the hell off this planet.”

He got agreement all the way around. 

“Here’s the TARDIS key.”  Phillip dug into a pocket, withdrawing a familiar shape. 

He hesitated, but Ianto was there, holding out his hand.  “I can take it without any damage,” the dragon reassured him. 

Phillip was relieved as he dropped the key into Ianto’s palm.  The dragon rested his empty hand on Phillip’s shoulder, and Jack could see the other immortal relaxing a little bit more at the acceptance of his condition.

“We will fix this,” Jack heard Ianto whisper. 

Phillip nodded a little jerkily, but he did seem to take Ianto at his word.

“Why don’t you get the ice away from the Darkhold and we’ll get it put away,” the dragon suggested.  “You think you can do that?”

“I…don’t know,” Phillip answered honestly.  “I don’t feel very much in control at the moment.”

“If you can’t,” Arthur spoke up, “Excalibur can cut through anything.”

“I think someone not magical should be the one to pick it up,” Merlin piped up.  “That thing is dangerous to anyone with any sort of power.”

“I shall do that,” Mar-Von volunteered.  “The Kree race is one of the most non-magical races in the universe.”

“Thank you, Commander,” Phillip said gratefully.

Mar-Von saluted.  “By your command, Director.”

 

**********

 

After that, clean-up didn’t take any time at all.

It turned out that Phillip didn’t have enough control to break the ice around the Darkhold, and it did take Arthur two strokes with his sword to crack it and free that damned book.  Jack might not have been as magical as most of the people in the room, but even he could feel just how malevolent it was.  While the other two guards kept the area illuminated, Mar-Von moved the book into the containment case that Ianto had brought with them, snapping it closed. 

The relief among the team was palpable once the Darkhold was locked away.

Mar-Von also put a set of deadlock cuffs on Lucy.  Jack would have to speak to Merlin about keeping her imprisoned somewhere, and how they were going to do that with the amount of magic she was able to wield, but for now they could keep her sedated.

The skeleton that had once been Grant Ward would be left where it was.

Melinda stared down at it balefully.  “That was a far too easy way for him to die.  I would have made him suffer.”

Phillip looked at her fondly.  “And I was looking forward to you doing just that.”

“We’ll have to keep a lookout for any more reincarnations of former enemies,” Ianto commented.  “There’s no telling who might creep out of the woodwork from now on.”

That observation didn’t go over well with anyone.

They all bundled into the TARDIS after they were finished.  The time machine welcomed Jack back like a long-lost friend, and the immortal rested a hand on her wall, smiling softly as she sang to him. 

“I love you too, gorgeous,” he murmured into her panelling.

That was when he caught Ianto watching him, a rather soppy grin on his face.,

“Don’t start.”  Jack waggled a finger at him.

A single eyebrow raised, which Jack read as a quiet, _“Who, me?”_

“Yes, you.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

Anything Jack would have retorted was lost as the TARDIS lurched into take-off. 

Merlin was by the console, fingers dancing over the controls.  “Sorry, I haven’t piloted in a long time.  She’s just being a little temperamental.”

Jack got the distinct impression that the TARDIS was laughing.

The three troopers had marvelled at the inside of the TARDIS upon stepping within.  Melinda had never been inside, either, but she simply shrugged and acted all blasé about the whole ordeal.  She stayed close to Phillip, ignoring the cold he was putting out without any sort of complaint.  Lisa was curled up against his side, and Phillip seemed to appreciate it.  Jack knew he must have been terrified about touching anyone, and he couldn’t blame his son-by-mating.  They’d need to get his magic back under his control, and quickly.  That, on top of everything he must have gone through, would have been wearing his resolve down.  Jack hoped he didn’t collapse before they got back to Hubworld.

Stepping around the console room, he approached the man who’d been a friend for so much longer than they’d been related.  Phillip acknowledged his approach with a brittle smile. 

Jack was glad he was wearing his greatcoat.  He wasn’t like Lisa or Ianto or Sabrina; the cold did bother him, even if he’d become accustomed to it over the time he’d lived on Earth. 

“Ianto’s right, you know,” he said.  “We will figure out a way to fix this.”

“I know we’ll try.”  Phillip sighed.  “I also know that Merlin feels responsible, but I trusted him.  He needed a way to stop Lucy from killing us both, and to be honest I’d rather be alive and look like this,” he waved his hand down his frost-encrusted body, “than dead.  I really do want to be around to help Clint raise our child.”

The immortal took heart at Phillip’s words.  Yes, he was worried about the man’s state of mind, but it seemed as if he wasn’t going to do something they would all regret.  Not that Phillip Coulson-Jones was like that; he was one of the strongest people Jack had ever met, and had dealt with so many things that had rocked his life that Jack wasn’t all that concerned about him in that way. 

But, at the same time, despite the fact that he’d finally taken control of his magic, there was a part of Phillip that absolutely hated it.  His immortality was fine; that had been brought on by a combination of Loki’s magic and the procedures that had brought him back from the dead.  The cold, though; that had all been on Loki, and no one even knew how it had happened in the first place.  Loki hadn’t been all that forthcoming, either.  And the last thing Phillip had ever wanted or needed was any sort of reminder about the bastard that had murdered him.

This supercharging of his magic would have repercussions beyond even Phillip’s peace of mind.  It would affect every single one of his interactions in the future.  Also, the technology he was used to dealing with would need to be upgraded to handle the intense cold, unless he could regain control. 

But Jack had faith in Phillip’s strength.  They would work through this, no matter how long it took.

“I should step away from Torchwood for the time being,” the ice mage said.  “At least until I can get this back under wraps.”

“Are you sure that’s necessary?” Melinda asked.  “There’s nothing wrong with your mental faculties – “

“No, there isn’t,” he agreed.  “However, I’m going to be distracted until I can regain control.  Besides, I’d planned to take a little time off once our baby is born.”  Phillip gave Melinda a look. “You and talked about that.”

“Yes, we did,” she said begrudgingly.  “But that wasn’t due to happen for another couple of months.”

“Mel, you know about the job.  I trained you.  The only thing you don’t have are the Director Level codes – “

“And I don’t want them,” she denied.  “If anything like that comes up, I can call either Directors Harkness or Pendragon to help.”

She was angry, it was obvious despite her usual inscrutable nature.  But Jack realised it wasn’t because Phillip was saddling her with the job of Director Pro Tem; it was the circumstances that was causing the handing over of power that was causing her ire.  It shouldn’t have been this way, and yet it was going to happen no matter what they did. 

Phillip was right, and she knew it.  Jack could see it in her eyes.  But getting codes was too much for her to accept, because it meant that there was the possibility that Phillip might not come back. 

So, he decided to come to her rescue.  “Of course you can, Melinda,” he told her.  “I’ve been consulting with Torchwood on a case-to-case basis anyway.  All you have to do is call me, and I’ll be there to help however I can.”

To be honest, Jack really didn’t want to be the Director again.  He’d put in his time in charge, and once he’d stepped down he’d come to realise just how much of his time Torchwood had consumed.  He’d been considering the idea of talking to Ianto about hatching some more of the eggs that River had brought them, now that their last batch of children were old enough to be out on their own. 

But, with Ianto off at Luna University teaching, it would have been Jack doing most of the raising during the hours his mate had his class.  And he knew damned well that Rowena was going to try to talk him into taking over more classes, which would mean that Ianto would be gone longer hours.

Still, Jack had been ready.  He would have done it gladly.

But that was going to change now. 

They had no way of knowing how long it would take Phillip to regain his equilibrium with his magic.  It might be weeks…or even years.  Jack didn’t pretend to understand magic the way his son-by-mating did, and even Phillip seemed to not know how long it would take. 

Jack didn’t want to suggest another trip to Asgard, but perhaps it was time once again to beard Loki in his prison.  They needed to know just how the magic Merlin had funnelled into Phillip had affected him, and the one person they knew of who was an expert in ice magic would be the one who’d somehow ‘gifted’ Phillip with the power in the first place.

The TARDIS came to a stop with a thump of its time rotor.  “We’re here,” Merlin announced.

Jack was on his way to the door before the last word was spoken, and he had it flung open swiftly.  Even though he and the Doctor had had a rocky time of it in the past, he did care what happened to the Time Lord, and he could only hope that the Vashta Nerada hadn’t gotten to him before they’d arrived.

He need not have worried.

But what he did see outside within the Central Data Core was a complete and utter shock.

“Well, it’s about time you all showed up,” River Song commented, giving Jack a rather saucy wink.

 

 


	38. Chapter 38

 

**_1 September 5192 (Earth Standard Date)_ **

**_Central Core Room_ **

**_The Library_ **

****

The Doctor flatly refused to watch what was happening with his son and Phillip, in the upper levels of the Library.

He asked Cal if he could get the security feed anyway.

Bringing Merlin out of the Data Core had been simple, and afterward the Doctor had barely had a headache.  The security sphere had shown Phillip arriving at the transport, but the Time Lord had looked away once his son was standing on his own.

The problem was, he just didn’t have a place where his eyes could rest, so he ended up watching it anyway.

His hearts just about stopped when the feed went out.

It took every single bit of strength he had not to run up there and find out what had happened to Merlin and Phillip.

Instead, he paced.

He wasn’t aware that he was wringing his hands for a solid five minutes, then he forced himself to stop.

Anything could be happening up there.  There was only one reason the camera would stop, and he didn’t need to ask Cal for confirmation.  The sphere had been destroyed, and he just knew who’d done it.

Lucy and Ward had found them.

Back and forth he paced, the movement not even working off the sudden influx of excess energy that had flooded his system.  Time Lords had a slightly different endocrine system than humans, but they still could get adrenaline rushes, and this was a major one.

He had to trust in them, that Merlin and Phillip would be able to get to the TARDIS and escape back to the computer core.  He had faith that Phillip could handle Ward; the immortal had power, and a quick mind. 

It was Merlin against Lucy that had the Doctor scared nearly out of his mind.

His son was powerful, there was no doubt about that.  But Lucy had been building up her magic, augmenting it with the life force of all those dead Vashta Nerada, and she was mad to boot.  Merlin had a solid core of moral strength that he’d inherited from his father, and the Doctor was a little worried that he might not be able to match her in ruthlessness.

In a way, it was a parallel to his relationship with the Master.

They’d been friends, once.  Until the drums had driven the Master insane, and he’d left Gallifrey in order to wreak his own distinctive brand of chaos across time and space.  In a way, the Master was the Doctor’s opposite: Chaos versus Order, Death versus Life.  The Master was the Doctor’s nemesis, when they should have been brothers in loss.

His Tenth self hadn’t understood that there were times when a person just couldn’t be saved.  This incarnation wasn’t particularly bloodthirsty – he saved that for his First and Seventh personas, and that one he didn’t mention – but even he realised that there had really not been a choice where the Master was concerned.  It had been pointed out to him at the time that the Master would just eventually escape, and that would have meant he’d have to kill the Doctor to get his hands on the TARDIS.  

Still, there were other ways in which to keep the Master from doing that. 

But the dragons had always had strict forms of justice.  The Doctor had known that, even back then, and there had been no way a dragon was going to let what the Master had done to his mate go without retribution.

This version of himself accepted that.  However, it didn’t mean he agreed with it.  But he could certainly understand the reason behind it now.

He was taking yet another step when he was practically knocked off his feet by the strongest burst of magic the Doctor had ever felt.

The Time Lord himself didn’t have any of that sort of power.  Merlin had been the one to have gotten a full share, due to the very nature of his reincarnation and the effects of the vortex, in which he’d been born.  River herself wasn’t strictly human, although her parents were as baseline as they could possibly get…well, there was Rory’s constant dying and resurrecting, but each and every one of those could be blamed on the timelines and not something within his genetic code. 

Merlin himself was about three quarters Time Lord.  He had the two hearts and the ability to regenerate that he’d gained from his father, and the instinct and curiosity of his mother.  But it had been that single, reincarnated soul, exposed to the time vortex and a combination of genetics given him by his parents that had made him the greatest wizard the universe had ever seen.

But this was strong enough for him to have even felt it.

The Doctor landed flat on his arse, his head ringing in the aftereffects of the blast.  Something terrible must have happened up in the Library, and he clambered to his feet, searching for his torch and needing to find out if his son and his friend were still alive.

He was stopped in his tracks by a flicker of something at the corner of his eye.

The Doctor had done his best to avoid looking toward the long-dead form of his wife, seated on the bench-like throne.  He’d had to get close in order to gather the pieces of equipment he’d needed to bring Merlin back from the core, but that was as close as he’d gotten.  He would be haunted by the straw-like texture of River’s hair under his fingers; it tainted the memory of how it had felt during her life.  Seeing her there, and remembering her the way she’d been the last time they’d been together – at the Singing Towers, their very last date – was jarring, and it was difficult for him to really deal with the presence of her death.

But now, he couldn’t help but stare at her.

Tiny golden pinpoints of light fluttered around her like miniature fireflies, dancing as they stroked across her dried-out skin.  Many of the sparks were flaring where they touched, and then sank out of sight within the withered flesh of her face and hands.  More of them dipped out of sight into the environmental suit, as if needing to get to the body inside.

It was all he could do not to stand and storm forward to swipe the golden specks away from her, angry at the sacrilege of it all.

But he couldn’t.

As the Doctor watched, still seated on the floor and in fascinated horror, River’s skin began to fill out once more.

Magic.

It had to have been magic working on her, although what had caused it to focus on River he didn’t know.

No, that wasn’t right.

He did know.

It was Merlin.

It had to be his son, utilising the power that Lucy had been calling to herself, to aid in the resurrection of the Master.  Instead of her using it, it was Merlin, and he was bringing his mother back to life.

The Doctor couldn’t make up his mind if he was sickened or ecstatic.

Certainly, he wanted River back.  The Doctor had had many loves in his life, but she was this regeneration’s true love, and being without her was as if he was trying to function without a limb.  He missed her more than he wanted to admit, and when he was honest with himself he knew he’d avoided their son since he’d sent River onto the Library, simply because he didn’t want to be reminded of what he’d lost.

That loss had made him more of a coward than he usually was, and the Doctor didn’t much like himself for it.

But it was dark magic.  Something that Merlin shouldn’t be using _at all_.

The magic swirled around her.  The small hairs on the back of the Doctor’s neck rose, and he knew the hairs on his arms would have been doing the same thing under the fabric of his shirt and coat.  River’s own hair, still pulled away from her face, blew about in the imaginary wind created by the power that was surrounding her, several strands whipping strongly against her face, the curls twisting into tangled shapes. 

The finger he’d had to break to release the connectors from her dead grasp flexed and crackled as the bone knitted back together.

It wasn’t long, but to the Doctor, even with his innate sense of time, it seemed to last forever before the last of the magic subsumed within River’s now-restored body.  She looked as if she was simply sleeping, and a part of the Doctor’s mind gibbered and tried to convince him that kissing her would awaken her, as if this was some sort of fairy story of true love.

No, this wasn’t any sort of fable.

This was real.

And his son was responsible.

River’s chest rose once, and then again, as she began to breathe again after decades since her sacrifice.

_A life for a life._

It was what Phillip had said, back when they’d met for the first time up on the Doctor Moon.  Magic had rules, and one of those was that a life had to be given in order to create a life.  Lucy had meant to use the life force she’d harvested from the Vashta Nerada to bring the Master back.

Instead, it looked as if Merlin had subverted that purpose, using the magic instead to resurrect his mother.

The ramifications of that were _terrifying_.

Eyes flickered open. 

They were same, familiar green that the Doctor remembered so very well.

He remembered when Merlin had been born with blue eyes, and had laughed because neither he nor River had had that colour.

Those eyes darted around as River shifted her head.  She winced.  “Have I got a crick in the neck,” she moaned, reaching up with a hand to give herself muscles a quick rub, only the collar of the environmental suit got in the way.

The Doctor could tell the exact moment when she realised where she was, and that she was alive.

Her eyes snapped to his, and she glared at him as if she could get right into his head and read his brain.  “What have you _done_?  Do you even _realise_?”

He held up his hands in surrender.  “It wasn’t me!”

“Like I’m supposed to believe that!”

Even when she was blaming him for bringing her back to life, the Doctor couldn’t help but be glad to hear her yell at him once more.  “Oh yeah, go ahead and think I was the one who brought you back!  You might want to talk to our son about that, actually.  Not that he exactly planned it, but I’m sure you can take that up with him when he gets back!”

Why _yes_ , he _did_ just throw his only son under the proverbial bus. But the Doctor felt there were extenuating circumstances and that Merlin would completely understand why he’d done it once he and Phillip got back with the TARDIS.

He didn’t want to use the word, _if_. 

The glaring got worse, if that was possible.

The Doctor scrambled to his feet.  “Well, I wish it had been me to come up with some sort of plan to save you,” he shouted defensively.  “Because then I might have saved Merlin from the pain of knowing his mother sacrificed herself and he didn’t even get to say goodbye!”

He remembered that day like it was a lurking shadow in his mind.  Of feeling helpless while River had linked herself into the computer, and her words to him about not changing a single thing of the time she’d spent with him.

It had only been when he’d really gotten to know her that it hurt, realising that he’d watched her die before he’d loved her. 

He’d almost taken the coward’s way out then, and tried to force her away.  The Doctor didn’t want to get his hearts broken, especially with the certain knowledge that River had to have meant so very much to him if he’d given her his real name. 

In the end, he couldn’t.  A part of him craved that closeness like a drug addict craved their next fix, and he’d had to have her by his side.  Of course, he hadn’t known about the having a son together thing, because that would have been far too much for him to bear on his soul for all those years.

Several expressions crossed River’s face, and the Doctor tracked each and every one of them: shock, shame, anger, regret, and finally acceptance…and weren’t those parts of the five stages of grief?

No, he reconsidered.  They were something else entirely, and he couldn’t tell what

The Doctor drooped.  “I would have done anything to save you,” he admitted.  “And I think you know that.”

River’s movements were wobbly as she got up and stepped down from the bench she’d been seated on since her death.  It was like watching someone trying to get used to walking again, and the Doctor met her halfway, reaching out to steady her, and then pull her into his arms.

She smelled of must and dirt, with the hint of her own unique pheromones peeking through…and it was _glorious_.

“I’ve missed you so much,” he mumbled into her hair as he gripped her tightly, never wanting to let go again.

She held onto him just as tightly, a single sob escaping her chest before she asked, “How long?”

“Linearly, or for me?”

River laughed somewhat brokenly at the question.  “How about linearly, because I get the feeling you’ve most likely forgotten what it’s been in your own, personal timeline, knowing you as I do.”

The Doctor wanted to feel insulted by that observation, but she was correct.  His own timeline was so out of whack he really had no idea.  Plus, it didn’t help that she’d actually died before he’d even met her. 

A part of him felt bad for not having kept an accurate count.

“One hundred and eight years, one month, two days, twelve hours, fifteen minutes, and thirty-two seconds.  Thirty-three…thirty-four…”

“Oh, stop it,” she chided him gently.  “You have absolutely nothing you need to prove to me.”

They stayed like that for a little while longer, even past the point where the Doctor began to get a little twitchy from standing still.  It was just so good to have her back, he wasn’t about to let go that quickly.

Eventually, though, River pulled away.  She was giving him a little bit of a stink-eye, and he automatically bristled at it.  “What?”

“Just what are you and Merlin doing here?  And what about the Vashta Nerada?  Please tell me you didn’t come here just to say hello because that would be so very dangerous…”

The Doctor was confused.  “You mean Merlin didn’t explain it to you already?”

River gave him a look that was part confusion, part _Have you lost your mind while I was dead?_ “How would he have done that?  I’ve been dead for one hundred and eight years, one month, two days…and please don’t ask me the hour and second, I didn’t keep track.”

Oh, of course.  This River hadn’t spent that last over hundred years in the Data Core, and she hadn’t been speaking with Merlin there.  Her data ghost hadn’t been reintegrated when she’d been brought back to life.  Which made sense, really.

So, he explained.  He began with Phillip’s message on the psychic paper, and ending with the magic coming along and resurrecting her.  River didn’t say anything throughout the recitation, but he could see how she thought about each plot point as he touched on them. 

He hadn’t forgotten just how expressive her face was.

“Phillip actually thought our son had killed all those Vashta Nerada?” There was the outrage he’d noticed at that part of the story.

The Doctor flapped a hand negligently.  “To be fair, he didn’t know at that point that there was someone powerful enough out there to do the same thing.”

“But our Merlin?  _Really_?”

He didn’t bother adding that he’d shot the idea down immediately.  He didn’t think he had to.

“And Merlin!  Hiding an incredibly evil book in the midst of millions of books!  I’m still not sure if I think that was a brilliant idea or an incredibly risky one.”

The Doctor was of two minds about that, as well.

“I’m sure he gets that from me, by the way.” She was actually _proud_ of that fact. 

Trust River to take responsibility for their son’s more crazier tendencies.  Like the Time Lord had never done anything like that in the entire time she’d known him.

“And neither of you thought to clue in the rest of the family about what was going on?”

“You know why we didn’t.”

River sighed.  “Yes, I do.  If Merlin had proved to be that unstable…”  She didn’t have to say the rest.

“Phillip called me in, thinking I might be able to mitigate any sort of damage Merlin would do.  But it turned out that Merlin had been kidnapped as well.”

He didn’t add the possible torture part.

“And most likely tortured!” she exclaimed angrily.

It was often claimed that spouses particularly close to one another had the reputation of reading minds, but Professor River Song had it down to a fine art, and she wasn’t even telepathic.

“I need a gun,” she muttered darkly.

The Doctor knew _exactly_ why she needed one. 

“Phillip and Merlin will be here shortly,” he tried to convince her.  “Once they are, we can come up with a plan to stop Lucy and Ward from resurrecting the Master.”

He knew that if he’d told her about the sudden loss of contact, she’d be out of the room like a shot, armed or unarmed.  Well, it didn’t help that he wanted to do the same thing, and while he wasn’t usually one for much caution in this case getting lost up there in the Library wouldn’t be a good thing at all.

“They were making for the TARDIS,” he went on.  “And we have time, now, because if what just happened is what I suspect then Lucy won’t have the magic now to use to bring the Master back.”

River crossed his arms.  “Or Lucy could go after Merlin and Phillip and use them for the same purpose she’d intended for the Vashta Nerada.”

“It’s too dangerous to go after them,” the Doctor shook his head.  “We can’t afford to get separated.  Our son and Phillip know where we are; all we have to do is wait for the TARDIS to show up.”

River gave him a look that was very easily read as, _Who are you and what have you done with my husband?_

That wasn’t very fair.  He couldn’t help it if he didn’t want her to step into danger so soon after getting her back.  The Doctor had never once, in his entire lives, considered himself a sappy fool but this was skirting the edge.  He’d never hear the end of it if River discovered that he was afraid she’d not come back again.  The Vashta Nerada were still out there, as was Lucy and Ward, and he might have been a nit selfish about it but he wasn’t ready to lose her again.

To be fair, he’d never really be ready for that.

He was saved from admitting his feelings by the unmistakable sound of the TARDIS’ materialisation sequence.

“I see our son doesn’t take the parking brake off either,” River snarked.

The Doctor couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this relieved, honestly.

Although, he hadn’t expected Jack to be the one to open the door.

“Well, it’s about time you all showed up,” River greeted them.

Wait…had she just winked at Jack?

And why would the Doctor feel jealous about that?

Because there really wasn’t a reason.  Jack was a taken being, and while he’d often flirt he would never make a move on anyone not a certain dragon.  Jack Harkness had gone to one of the most promiscuous men in the universe to the most committed, and it really was a good look on him.

And what was Jack doing in the TARDIS, anyway?

The utter confusion on the immortal’s face as he caught sight of River in all of her living glory wasn’t all that attractive, though.  Only a goldfish should look that gobsmacked.

“Mum!”

The exclamation was filled with shock, dismay, and sheer happiness.

The Doctor stepped back as Merlin practically threw himself out of the TARDIS and into his mother’s arms.

And then he stepped forward, and embraced both his wife and son, glad to have his family back together once more.

 

 


	39. Chapter 39

 

**_1 September 5192 (Earth Standard Date)_ **

**_Central Core Room_ **

**_The Library_ **

****

Merlin’s hearts began to race as he heard his mother’s voice just outside the TARDIS, greeting Jack in that flirty, sarcastic tone he’d heard her use so many times in the past.

He’d known, when he’d funnelled the magic away from Lucy Saxon, that he’d sent it somewhere.  Always, in the back of his mind, his mother had been, and a part of him had known just where he’d be sending it after he realised that both he and Phillip couldn’t contain it all. 

But he honestly hadn’t expected all that magic to bring her completely back to life.  And he couldn’t help that tiny voice in his head that was wondering what using dark magic would do to taint her.

He wasn’t, however, going to look a proverbial gift horse in the mouth.  He was certain he would, later, but not now.

“Mum!” he shouted.

Merlin was past Jack and out of the TARDIS before he even knew he was moving. 

Now, this was his Mum.  Not the data ghost in the Core; this, this was the woman who bore him, who was proud of him when he’d kept changing the colour of walls of his room in the TARDIS when he’d been a child, who’d encouraged him to study and to eventually open his own school for magic. 

This was also the woman who left him with another family, because she couldn’t stand sitting still for more than a year at a time.

But he didn’t care about that. 

His mother was alive. 

It wouldn’t matter if she was gone the next day.  She’d be out there, somewhere, and that was all that mattered, because a universe without River Song in it was a much more boring place.

His Dad joined them in their embrace, and for the first time in a very long time Merlin felt completely whole.

Despite his innate sense of time, Merlin lost track of it as he was enveloped within his parents’ arms.  His hearts were telling him that he was home, in a way that he hadn’t even known he’d been missing.  This was a different sort of home, not like the one he had with Arthur and Rory.  

It was wonderful and warm and safe, despite them standing there, in the Great Library, with the Vashta Nerada above them and uncertain times ahead.

“I hate to break up the reunion,” Jack’s soft voice broke into their group hug, “but it would be a lot safer if this was continued inside the TARDIS.”

His Granddad had a valid point. 

The Doctor pulled away reluctantly.  “He’s right.  We have things to do, and bad guys to catch.  We can get explanations once we’re in the Vortex.”

Merlin felt his Dad bustling them into the TARDIS.  He let himself be bustled, because being in the Library wasn’t something he wanted to do anymore.  And there really were things to do, and bad guys to catch, like his Dad said. 

“Besides,” the Doctor went on, “I’d really like to know where all these people came from.”

There really was quite a crowd within the console room.  

“We came to rescue you,” Ianto answered. 

“Well,” the Doctor twitched slightly, “thank you for that.”

Then he seemed to see Phillip for the first time, and his mouth dropped open.  “What happened?”

Under the console room lights, Phillip looked even whiter than he had up in the Library.  The blueness of the veins showed just under his slightly crystalline appearing skin, and his eyes glittered gold and white.  He stood slightly away from the others, and his very presence dropped the ambient temperature of the room by a couple of degrees, just enough to be obvious.

Lisa stood next to him, as if she wanted to protect him from whatever might do even more damage being done to him.  Melinda May was also nearby, if a few steps away, and if she was affected by the cold she wasn’t showing it. 

Merlin felt himself blushing faintly.  “It…it was my fault.  I…I was trying to keep Lucy from using the Vashta Nerada’s life force.  Some of that magic went into Phillip, while the rest of it…went to Mum.  But it super-charged Phillip’s own magic.”

And he wasn’t even mentioning that it was _dark magic_.  How that would affect his uncle-by-mating beyond the obvious was something for another day.  Merlin was already certain he’d be having nightmares about it.

The Doctor had his sonic screwdriver out, and was taking scans of the immortal.  Phillip stood there and accepted it, but then Merlin figured he wanted answers as much as Merlin himself did.

He was never going to forgive himself for what he’d done.  He never should have syphoned off that magic and fed it into Phillip.  He’d had an uneasy truce with the magic he’d been ‘gifted’ by Loki, and Merlin had just made it worse.  Plus, the nature of the magic…no, he didn’t want to think about that yet.

The sonic hummed and whirred, and the Doctor stared at it as if it had personally disappointed him.  “Oh, this is not good,” he muttered. 

“What is it?” Ianto asked, which was a good thing because Merlin was afraid to.

“Please don’t sugar-coat it,” Phillip requested, sounding calm.  It was just a façade, it had to be.  “Tell me everything.”

“Your magic was never natural to you,” the Doctor explained, “but then you knew that.”

“I did,” Phillip confirmed.  “No one has ever been able to figure out how it came to me, since we did tests on Loki’s spear and it didn’t have that sort of power in it, and Loki isn’t telling.”

“The GH325 that you were treated with has been in equilibrium with the ice magic:  the magic fighting to be a part of you, to change you; while the GH325 was fighting that change.  It’s been that way from the beginning.  But now…the magic is suddenly so much stronger.  It’s overpowering the GH325, and it’s changing your very genetic make-up.  If it stays within you, eventually you’re going to lose your immortality.  The thing with that is, the GH formula is also what’s keeping the magic from destroying you, because the human body simply isn’t meant to be its current temperature.  You’re slowly freezing to death, Phillip, and if the formula does give out…it would only be a matter of days, if not hours.”

Merlin felt the horror creep up over him.  This was his fault.  He was killing Phillip as surely as if he’d given the immortal some sort of slow-acting poison.

No, that was far too accurate.  He _had_ ; only the poison was magic, and Phillip hadn’t ingested it.  Merlin had forced it upon him.

“Goddess,” he whimpered, “I am so very sorry…”

Phillip took a step toward Merlin, but stopped before he could get too close.  “Merlin, you didn’t know what would happen.”

An arm went around him, and Merlin didn’t need to look to see it was his mate, trying to hold him together like he had so many times before.  “Phillip’s right,” Arthur soothed.  “We’re going to work this out.”

“You know,” Phillip sighed, “if this had happened a couple of centuries ago, I would have been fine with it.  I would have just accepted it.  But now…I have a mate, and children with one on the way, and that means I’m going to fight for my life.  And, if there has to be a choice between the magic and the immortality, I’d take the immortality every single time.  I’m not about to leave Clint.  And who knows?  If we can’t fix this, I may reincarnate.  There’s simply no way I’m going to leave my family for very long.”

This was just wrong.  There had to be something they could do…

“What about those anti-magical bullets Ward had?” Phillip asked.

“Wait,” Jack interrupted, “anti-magical bullets?”

“You’re not suggesting we shoot you over and over again,” Ianto demanded, outraged.

But Merlin could see it.  Suppress the magic as much as possible, and it wouldn’t kill Phillip.  “Ward’s gun…did anyone pick it up?”

“I did, Second Williams-Song,” the Kree who Merlin thought was named Mar-Von answered.  “I secured the weapon, not knowing what sort it was.”

The Doctor was nodding.  “It could work, but it would only be for the short term, and it might give us a chance to come up with something else.  The thing is, getting rid of the magic for a long period of time will just tip Phillip’s body in the opposite direction, and the GH formula could run amok throughout his system.  It’s all back to the balance.  The magic and the GH325 have been in equilibrium for millennia.  Taking it one way or the other is not a good thing.”

“We are _not_ shooting you,” Ianto reiterated sharply. 

“I’m not saying that,” Phillip denied.  “But, certainly, we can take the bullets and make them into something that would work.  I assure you, getting shot every couple of hours is not my idea of a fun day.”

“Let’s get back to Hubworld,” Jack suggested.  “We’ll let the scientists figure that out.  I don’t know about anyone else, but I think I’d prefer if we leave this place to the remnants of the Vashta Nerada. We also have a prisoner to detain,” he jerked his chin toward Lucy, who was still unconscious and laying on the floor of the TARDIS, “and an evil book to dispose of.”  The containment case containing the Darkhold had been set far enough away from anyone, as if its very presence would contaminate everyone.

Merlin didn’t think that was so very far from wrong.

“What are you going to be doing with it?” the Doctor demanded, moving to the console. River joined him, giving him a shit-eating grin, and together they began the dematerialisation sequence. 

“Actually,” Ianto answered, “Clint came up with an excellent idea – dropping it into the nearest sun with a very long lifespan.  It would be out of anyone’s reach then.”

Merlin’s mouth dropped open.  Why hadn’t he thought of that?  It would put the Darkhold completely out of play, and this would never happen again.  If this had come to him in the beginning, none of the events of the last several days could have been avoided.

But then, it could have very well have been the Darkhold itself.  He knew now that taking it out of the Archives had been the wrong thing to do, even though he hadn’t wanted its presence to corrupt him, which he’d been certain it would do.  Now…he had to wonder if he’d been corrupted all along, just enough to make sure the that damned book was in a safe location.  Hiding it within an entire Library had been a stroke of genius to him at the time.  He wasn’t so certain about that, now that he’d had time to think about it.

“I’ll be more than happy to help with that,” his Dad growled, sounding almost like Grandtad did when he was angry.  “That thing should never have been created, and if I could track down whatever being calling themselves an Elder God that did it I would be giving them a piece of my mind.”

Yes, Merlin could see it, too.  The image of it actually put a small smile on his face.  After all, his Dad’s anger was legendary.  There was a very good reason he was called the Oncoming Storm.

Arthur tightened his arm around him, and the wizard leaned into his mate’s warmth.  “I do hope someone thought to let Clint know he could transmat back to Hubworld,” he commented.

Phillip laughed, although it was a very uncertain sound.  “I told him just before we all boarded the TARDIS.  He’s most likely waiting for us at the tower by now.” Then his voice dropped, and he growled, “Although we _will_ be having words about letting my _pregnant_ mate get this close to danger.”

At that, Jack snorted, “And have you tried to get Clint to do something he was bound and determined to do, despite the very logical reasons for him to not, in fact, do it?”

One corner of Philip’s mouth curled upward; it was a smile, but a private one, and it was obvious he was thinking about his mate.  “Point.”

 

 


	40. Chapter 40

 

**_The TARDIS_ **

 

The sound of the TARDIS dematerialising roared through the console room, then settled as the time machine entered the vortex.  Merlin could feel it, but then the vortex was a part of him, just as it was for his father, his mother, and Jack, although each in different ways. It was comforting, and he always wondered if this was what being in the womb felt like.

“What about her?” Arthur motioned toward Lucy, who was still unconscious on the floor, her hands restrained behind her.  “Her magic is still very much in play.”

“Can’t Merlin do something about that?” Lisa asked.  “There are spells that can bind a person’s magic so they can’t use it.  Something like that wouldn’t work in Phillip’s case, but for Lucy…”

Merlin had to wonder just how Lisa had gotten involved, but then it hit him: Morgana had to have known about the Darkhold.  He doubted she’d ever seen it, because Morgana had been mad enough to have used it against Camelot, but such a powerful artefact would have been common knowledge in certain, magical circles.  Plus, she would have muscled her way into the mission simply because Phillip had been missing.  Lisa had always had a connection to him, and she would have done anything she could to help him.

“Why wouldn’t that sort of spell work for Phillip?” Jack wanted to know.

“Because it would take his magic away completely,” Merlin answered, “and we can’t do that.  It would be almost as bad as…well, me overcharging his magic.  You heard what Dad said.”  He would feel bad about that for a very long time, no matter what anyone said.  “Casting something like this on Lucy wouldn’t matter, because we’re not letting her loose after what she’s done, and she’s so used to having magic that having it stripped from her is bound to incapacitate her, for at least a little while until she got used to living without it.”  He, personally, didn’t think he could ever survive without his magic.  The very thought of it almost made him wish he didn’t have to do it to Lucy.  However, he knew it had to be done.

“She’s going to be in prison for the rest of her life,” Arthur said.  “Even though the Vashta Nerada aren’t the nicest race in the universe, they are sentient, and Lucy murdered a vast majority of them in the Library.  It’s an act of near-genocide, and it’s punishable by life imprisonment at the very least.  I’m quite certain if we left her to the Vashta Nerada their sentence would be death.  We’re actually doing her a favour by taking her into custody.”

“We could certainly bind Phillip’s magic with that sort of spell,” Merlin went on, “but it would make it almost impossible for him to function as Torchwood’s Director, let alone in any sort of official capacity.  Yeah, his magic is a bit different, but that makes this this kind of thing even worse, because we have no idea what it would also do to the GH325 in his cells.  We can’t take the risk.”

“I don’t want to be out of my head,” Phillip declared.  “It’s not just Torchwood; it’s mine and Clint’s family.  I want to be able to take care of our children, and if I’m going to be incapacitated in that way then I could conceivably be a danger to my family.  I won’t take that risk.”

“Then we’ll see what the scientists can come up with using those anti-magical bullets and what they can find in the old TAHITI files,” Ianto decided.  “We need you on this, Phillip, especially since I’m convinced this is just the tip of the iceberg…no pun intended.”

He went on to explain what they’d discovered in their own investigations, and about the dragon’s concerns that this is a resurgence of the old terror organisation known as HYDRA.  When he mentioned the name of the captain-owner of the ship that they’d been investigating, Phillip’s lips pressed into a thin line, and Merlin could practically feel the outrage pouring from the ice mage’s skin. 

Merlin had read files on HYDRA.  He knew the bare bones about the former organisation, and what they’d tried to accomplish.  He knew they’d once hid within SHIELD, only emerging into the light of day because SHIELD had fallen.  He’d have to study up on them again, now that it seemed as if they were trying to make a comeback.

Phillip turned to Melinda. “Are we sure this is John Garrett we’re dealing with?”

Melinda nodded.  “I don’t have any proof, but if Ward came back, then what’s to say that Garrett hasn’t as well?”

“They mentioned a Garrett,” the Doctor interrupted.  He was still working around the console, but it was obvious all his attention was on his passengers.  “Phillip, you were unconscious at the time, but Lucy and Ward talked about getting him those codes they forced from you.”

“There’s something much bigger going on,” Jack said.  “This attempt at bringing the Master back was just the beginning.  Thankfully we managed to stop this particular plot, but we’re going to need to investigate this more thoroughly.  Ianto’s right…we need you on this, Phillip.  You and Melinda know the most about HYDRA, and we can’t afford to have you out of the game, not at this juncture.”

“Then I guess this means I’m back out in the field,” Sabrina spoke up.  “I’ll get in touch with some of my contacts and see what I can dig up.  I think calling Cadi in on this would be a good idea, too.”

“I agree,” Phillip said.  “Cadi’s contacts go much deeper than yours, Sabrina.  She’s got more fingers in more pies than anyone else we have access to.  Maybe she can come up with some leads. We can also call in some other operatives who have deep cover experience as well.”

“I think I might hang about as well,” the Doctor mused.  “You never know when you might need a Time Lord in your corner.”

“Oh, Sweetie,” River teased, “you just want an enemy to outsmart.”

The Doctor shrugged noncommittally.  “I don’t know what you mean.  I’m just trying to help out some friends, that’s all.”

“Of course that’s it.”

Merlin couldn’t help but laugh.  He’d missed his parents being like this.  Hells, he’s missed his parents being in his life. 

Arthur’s arm tightened around him, and he twisted his head to look at his mate.  Arthur was staring at him, and the relief in his eyes drew him in until he felt as if he was drowning in it.

“I’m sorry I didn’t notice you were gone sooner,” he whispered, regret chasing the relief away.  “I should have – “

“No,” the wizard answered.  “You know me…I get caught up.  But let’s decide on a time limit from now on, alright?  If I don’t call within two days, you should come and rescue me from whatever it is I’m into.  How does that sound?”

“That sounds ideal.”  The relief was back.  “Because I do know how you get, Merlin.  You are going to be the death of me one of these days.”

“You are such a prat,” Merlin rolled his eyes.  “The only way I’d even think about your dying is under the mess you keep in your office at home.  How you can even work in that pig sty is beyond me.  One day one of those piles of paperwork is going to avalanche and you’ll be buried.”

“My office isn’t that bad!”

“It is!  And you don’t have a servant anymore to clean up after you.”

Goddess, Merlin had missed this.  He was so very glad to be home, to be with his family.  He knew things were going to be bad before they got better, and they had so much to do, but at least he was finally back with his mate and their son, when he’d thought at one point that it might not ever happen.

But they were also Torchwood, despite the fact that he and Arthur were officially retired.  But they’d kidnapped and tortured him – even if he couldn’t recall any of that – and they’d also tortured Phillip and tried to kill them.  Somewhere, out there Lucy Saxon and Grant Ward had had accomplices, and if Grandtad Ianto was right then they could very well be dealing with a new version of HYDRA. 

They’d need to find those accomplices, and what their plans were.  For the time being, he and Arthur were back in Torchwood.

It wasn’t going to infringe on his enjoying the presence of his mother once more.  Maybe, this time, he’d actually get to spend more time with her, and his Dad.  He wasn’t going to give up on that dream, now that it was so very close to reality. 

HYDRA didn’t stand a chance against them all.

 

 


	41. Chapter 41

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we are, the end of this part of the story. The next story won't be going up until Tuesday, and will be a short called "The Doctor and the Director", and has Eleven visiting Nick Fury and giving him a piece of his mind concerning the TAHITI Project. Then on Wednesday will start, "Masks", which features Daisy "Skye" Johnson and how she helps find a cure for Phillip.

 

**_Unknown Time_ **

**_Central Data Core_ **

**_The Library_ **

****

River didn’t want to think about what she’d just seen happen.

She’d long ago accepted the fact that she was dead.  That she’d willingly sacrificed herself to save all those people trapped within the Data Core.  That she wasn’t a Time Lord, despite the fact that she’d once been able to regenerate, and that she’d given up that ability when the Doctor had been close to death.  She’d known, going in, that there would have been no way for her to survive her plan, but she’d been fine with that.

Her mind being saved within the Data Core had been a shock, if she was honest.

But that was the Doctor.  He would have had a plan going in, even if his former self hadn’t been aware of it.  She should have known the moment he’d given her that sonic screwdriver that her husband had something up his sleeve. 

For the most part, she was fine with her current existence.  Cal gave her everything she wished for: family and adventures and it was never boring. 

But there had always been that teeny, tiny place within the data flow that had become her mind that knew it was all a fraud, however she’d become very good at ignoring it.

And then Merlin had shown up, and he hadn’t been a fake, it had been her only son, and River had had to face up to the fact that she’d missed him, and in fact had been a rather bad parent to him.  Yet, he still loved her, and that had helped assuage her conscience a little.

Not that she’d ever admit to anyone that she actually _had_ a conscience.  After all, she had a certain reputation to maintain, even when she was a stream of self-aware code that was a part of a larger system.

River had known that Merlin would need to go back.  And, when the Doctor and Phillip had shown up, her husband had become the conduit for that.

Still, she hadn’t counted on her physical body being resurrected.

That…hurt.  That she was trapped within the Data Core while her body was now out there, having real adventures with her family.  That, however that had happened – and she was willing to bet it had been Merlin – meant that her survival within the Data Core no longer mattered.

Her mind hadn’t been resurrected with her body. 

Judging from the images from the security camera, her body had remembered everything except for the life she’d been living within the Data Core.  None of that had gone back when her body had come back to life.

It wasn’t fair.

The thing was, River had always known that the universe wasn’t fair.  She’d seen enough of it, had lived in far too many times and on too many places to think otherwise. This, though, was even worse.

She wished the Doctor hadn’t managed to download her now.

River was going to have to exist with the knowledge that she was without her family.  That they were out there, together, once more.  It was too much.

This version of her would never see her grandchildren.  She would never be able to take Merlin off on a trip to some of the more interesting historical events she’d studied while at University.

Not that she’d done anything like that before her death.

River certainly wished that her corporeal brain would come to the realisation that she needed to spend more time with her husband and her son, instead of going off on her own and leaving them behind.

Maybe she would.  Maybe losing it all would give her the perspective that River had gained in her time within the Core.  If she could speak to herself, she’d certainly give herself a right talking to about it.

“Are you alright?”

River turned.  Evangelista stood just behind her, her dark eyes sad.  She’d witnessed River’s corporeal resurrection as well, and would be feeling sympathetic. 

No, she couldn’t have that sort of sympathy, because then it would make things so much worse than they already were.

Instead, she smiled.  “Actually, I was thinking about an adventure up the Amazon,” she said, making certain her voice was chipper, even if she wasn’t feeling that way at all.  “Would you care to join me?”

Evangelista nodded.  “And perhaps the rest of team would like to, as well.”

“I think that’s an excellent idea.  Let me get with Cal and see what she can come up with.”

River would go on.  She had no choice.  She was trapped within the Data Core, and she would never get out.

She might as well make the best of it.

 

_Fin…for now._

 


End file.
